“Honesty compels me to admit,” answered Austen, “that I did not refrain on Mr. Crewe's account.”
“Although,” said Mr. Flint, drumming on the table, “there was some talk that you were to be brought forward as a dark horse in the convention, and as a candidate unfriendly to the interests of the Northeastern Railroads, I am glad you did not consent to be put in any such position. I perceive that a young man of your ability and—popularity, a Vane of Camden Street, must inevitably become a force in this State. And as a force, you must retain the conservatism of the Vanes—the traditional conservatism of the State. The Northeastern Railroads will continue to be a very large factor in the life of the people after you and I are gone, Mr. Vane. You will have to live, as it were, with that corporation, and help to preserve it. We shall have to work together, perhaps, to that end—who can say? I repeat, I am glad that your good sense led you to refrain from coming as a candidate before that Convention. There is time enough in the future, and you could not have been nominated.”
“On the contrary,” answered Austen, quietly, “I could have been nominated.”
Mr. Flint smiled knowingly—but with an effort. What a relief it would have been to him to charge horse and foot, to forget that he was a railroad president dealing with a potential power.
“Do you honestly believe that?” he asked.
“I am not accustomed to dissemble my beliefs,” said Austen, gravely. “The fact that my father had faith enough in me to count with certainty on my refusal to go before the convention enabled him to win the nomination for the candidate of your railroads.”
Mr. Flint continued to smile, but into his eyes had crept a gleam of anger.
“It is easy to say such things—after the convention,” he remarked.
“And it would have been impossible to say their before,” Austen responded instantly, with a light in his own eyes. “My nomination was the only disturbing factor in the situation for you and the politicians who had your interests in hand, and it was as inevitable as night and day that the forces of the candidates who represented the two wings of the machine of the Northeastern Railroads should have united against Mr. Crewe. I want to say to you frankly that if my father had not been the counsel for your corporation, and responsible for its political success, or if he could have resigned with honour before the convention, I should not have refused to let my name go in. After all,” he added, in a lower tone, and with a slight gesture characteristic of him when a subject was distasteful, “it doesn't matter who is elected governor this autumn.”
“What?” cried Mr. Flint, surprised out of his attitude as much by Austen's manner as by Austen's words.