after a minute's hesitation. "Probably,
Orange ... in time."

"Don't you like him?" said Penborough.

"Like him!" answered Hatchett, rolling up his eyes. "He's an angel!"

"He calls him an angel as though he wished he were one in reality," said
Bradwyn. "I know these generous rivals!"

Ullweather stood gnawing his upper lip.

"Orange," he said, at last. "Oh, Orange has arrived. He will get no
further. Of course, he won that election, but Dizzy managed that. Dizzy
is the devil! And then, he is still devoted to Reckage, and, for a man
of his supposed shrewdness, I call that a sign of evident weakness."

At this, Charles Aumerle, who had been listening with the deepest
attention to all that passed, looked straight at the speaker.

"You should respect," said he, "that liberty, which we all have to
deceive ourselves. Reckage has many good points."

"But," said Penborough, "he has no moral force, no imagination. He
judges men by their manners, which is silly. He thinks that every one
who is polite to him believes in him. He will have to send in his
resignation before long."

"You don't mean it," said Aumerle.

"I mean more," continued Penborough. "He could not choose a better
moment than the present. In another month, on its present lines, the
whole league will have foundered. Should he remain, he would have to
sink with the ship. Now, however, it appears safe enough--people see
only what you see--a good cargo of influential names on the committee
and a clear horizon. He could plead ill-health, or his marriage--in
fact, a dozen excellent reasons for momentary retirement. The world
would praise his tact. As for the rest, those who have been
disillusioned will lose their heads, those who were merely self-seekers
will probably lose their places, but the trimmers always keep something.
The thing, then, is to cultivate the art of trimming."

"But you forget that Reckage is going to marry Miss Carillon," said
Aumerle. "Miss Carillon will always advise the safe course."

"That's all very well," said Bradwyn, "but there has been too much
arrangement in that marriage! I can tell you how the engagement came
about. She was intimate with his aunt. He acquired the habit of her
society on all decorous occasions. Still, he never proposed. The aunt
invited her to Almouth. She stayed two months. Still, not a word. Her
papa grew impatient, ordered her home. The next day she came to the
breakfast-table with red eyes, and announced