"His granddaughter, I think he said."
"She is the most beautiful human creature I ever beheld!" the young man exclaimed, rather breathlessly.
His friend looked at him—and laughed.
"That's not like you, Vin. Take care. The Hope of the Liberal Party enmeshed at four-and-twenty—that wouldn't do! Pretty—oh, yes, she was pretty enough, but shy: I hardly saw anything of her. I dare say her pretty face will have to be her fortune; I suspect the poor old gentleman is not overburdened with worldly possessions. He has his name, however; he seems proud enough of that; and I shouldn't wonder if it had made friends for him abroad. They seem to have travelled a good deal."
While he was speaking his companion had mechanically lifted from the table the card which old George Bethune had sent up. The address in Mayfair was pencilled on it. And mechanically the young man laid down the card again.
"Well, come along, Vin—let's get to Victoria."
"No, if you don't mind, Musselburgh," said the other, with downcast eyes, and something of embarrassment, "I would rather—not go down to the Bungalow to-night. Some other time—it is so good of you to be always asking me down——"
"My dear fellow," the young nobleman said, looking at his friend curiously, "what is the matter with you? Are you in a dream? Are you asleep? Haven't I told you that —— is coming down by a late train to-night; and isn't all the world envying you that the great man should make such a protégé and favourite of you? Indeed you must come down; you can't afford to lose such a chance. We will sit up for him; and you'll talk to him during supper; and you'll listen to him for hours after if he is in the humour for monologues. Then to-morrow morning you'll take him away bird's-nesting—he is as eager for any new diversion as a school-boy; and you'll have him all to yourself; and one of these days, before you know where you are, he'll hand you a Junior Lordship. Or is it the Under-Secretaryship at the Home Office you're waiting for? You know, we're all anxious to see how the new experiment will come off. The young man unspoiled by Oxford or Cambridge—untainted by landlord sentiment—trained for public life on first principles: one wants to see how all this will work in practice. And we never dictate—oh, no, we never dictate to the constituencies; but when the public notice from time to time in the newspapers that Mr. Vincent Harris was included in ——'s dinner-party on the previous evening, then they think; and perhaps they wonder when that lucky young gentleman is going to take his seat in the House of Commons. So really, my dear Vin, you can't afford to throw away this chance of having —— all to yourself. I suppose he quite understands that you are not infected with any of your father's Socialistic theories? Of course it's all very well for an enormously rich man like your father to play with Communism—it must be an exciting sort of amusement—like stroking a tiger's tail, and wondering what will happen in consequence; but you must keep clear of that kind of thing, my boy. Now, come along——"
"Oh, thank you, Musselburgh," the young man said, in the same embarrassed fashion, "but if you'll excuse me—I'd rather stay in town to-night."
"Oh, very well," the other said, good-naturedly, "I shall be up in a day or two again. By the way, the Four-in-Hand Club turns out on Saturday. Shall I give you a lift—and we'll go down to Hurlingham for the polo? Mrs. Ellison is coming."