“I am in the House.”
“As your father was—and your grandfather. It is a great career.”
“It may be a great career.”
“True—true. There must be many failures—many failures. Where and when are you most likely to be found?”
Leonard told him.
“Give me a note of it before we go to-night. I dare say I can get round some time.”
The ugly word once more unpleasantly returned to Leonard’s mind.
Mr. Frederick Campaigne proceeded with his interrupted discourse, which proved the necessity of the existence of the poor in order to make the condition of the rich possible and enviable. He took the millionaire’s point of view, and dwelt not only on the holiness of wealth, but also on the duties of the poor towards their superiors.
Leonard slipped away. He felt uncomfortable. He could not forget what had been told him about this loud and prosperous and self-satisfied person. Besides, he seemed to be overdoing it—acting a part. Why?
In the inner drawing-room he found his two cousins, Algernon and Philippa. The former, a young man of three-or four-and-twenty, was possessed of a tall figure, but rather too small a head. He smiled a good deal, and talked with an easy confidence common to his circle of friends. It was a handsome face, but it did not suggest possibilities of work.