Mamie cast him a sharp glance of interrogation, but he took no notice, and advanced towards his guest.
“Lady Patricia,” he said impressively, “you do want your husband?”
“Want him?” She choked down a sob. “Yes, I do want him; I long for him night and day! But you are unkind: don’t tease me, Mr. Moore!”
The tears welled up in her eyes, and gathered slowly on her beautiful lashes. She felt as if he were playing with her as a cat plays with a mouse, and her whole being rose in revolt at such a lack of generous feeling. But the Premier’s features showed no sign of intended satire; he had evidently spoken in perfect faith.
“I am not teasing you,” he said, in a peculiarly quiet voice. “Patricia, I have to make an important decision before ten o’clock to-morrow morning. A month ago I should have given my answer without the slightest hesitation, but now—now I see that things are different to what they appeared a little while ago. Supposing the Edict of Expulsion were cancelled, would your husband return?”
“The Edict cancelled!” She could scarcely believe her ears. “Do you mean that England will open her doors to the Jews again?” she asked, in a tone of excitement. “Oh, it seems too good to be true; I can scarcely believe it.” She took a deep breath. “Of course Lionel would come back; Haifa would soon empty itself of its English population. But, Mr. Moore, is it true? Do you really—really mean it?”
“It is a possibility,” he returned, as though with an effort. “Statistics show that trade and commerce have deteriorated since the Expulsion; and the people are clamouring for the Jews’ return. To-morrow the question comes up in Parliament, and I shall make a speech either for or against. My colleagues, knowing my views, anticipate my opposition; but—”
“But you will surprise them all by supporting the resolution,” she interpolated quickly. “Mr. Moore, you know the Expulsion Act has been a weight on your mind ever since it was put into force; you know that it was all a gross miscarriage of justice. If the Jews have suffered through it, so has England, so have you. Here is a Heaven-sent opportunity to retrieve your mistake!”
The Premier winced, scarcely relishing such frank condemnation. If he were obliged to drink the cup of defeat he shrank from having it offered in that way. But Patricia had conquered; and the long arguments in which she had so patiently engaged with him all through his child’s convalescence were about to bear fruit. She had known all along that her insistent pleading was making some little impression on his stubborn heart; but she had never dared to think that he would so easily surrender. Her questions fell thick and fast as she considered the details of the proposed repeal, and she volunteered more than one pertinent remark. The Premier sighed as he noticed her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes; for what was to her a cause of profound joyfulness, meant to him a great renunciation. Perhaps the girl never knew what the abandonment of his principles really cost him; it was like an upheaval of his whole political life.
It was nearly twelve o’clock before they parted for the night, and even then Patricia seemed inclined to linger. Hope had sprung up anew within her breast, and the thought of her husband’s probable return invested her with fresh life and energy. She listened to Mamie’s cheerful prognostication of the future with a happy smile, never thinking that her elation perhaps jarred upon her host. But when the clock struck the hour she approached him to say good-night, and the gladness on her face grew more subdued.