debate on a 'Censorship of Literature' which he advocated with gloom,
pertinacity, and a certain youthful brilliance that might well have
carried the day, had not an Irishman got up and pointed out the danger
hanging over the Old Testament. To that he had retorted: "Better, sir,
it should run a risk than have no risk to run." From which moment he was
notable.

He stayed up four years, and went down with a sense of bewilderment and
loss. The matured verdict of Oxford on this child of hers, was "Eustace
Miltoun! Ah! Queer bird! Will make his mark!"

He had about this time an interview with his father which confirmed the
impression each had formed of the other. It took place in the library at
Monkland Court, on a late November afternoon.

The light of eight candles in thin silver candlesticks, four on either
side of the carved stone hearth, illumined that room. Their gentle
radiance penetrated but a little way into the great dark space lined with
books, panelled and floored with black oak, where the acrid fragrance of
leather and dried roseleaves seemed to drench the, very soul with the
aroma of the past. Above the huge fireplace, with light falling on one
side of his shaven face, hung a portrait--painter unknown--of that
Cardinal Caradoc who suffered for his faith in the sixteenth century.
Ascetic, crucified, with a little smile clinging to the lips and deep-set
eyes, he presided, above the bluefish flames of a log fire.

Father and son found some difficulty in beginning.

Each of those two felt as though he were in the presence of someone
else's very near relation. They had, in fact, seen extremely little of
each other, and not seen that little long.

Lord Valleys uttered the first remark:

"Well, my dear fellow, what are you going to do now? I think we can make
certain of this seat down here, if you like to stand."

Miltoun had answered: "Thanks, very much; I don't think so at present."

Through the thin fume of his cigar Lord Valleys watched that long figure
sunk deep in the chair opposite.

"Why not?" he said. "You can't begin too soon; unless you think you
ought to go round the world."

"Before I can become a man of it?"

Lord Valleys gave a rather disconcerted laugh.

"There's nothing in politics you can't pick up as you go along," he said.
"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"You look older." A faint line, as of contemplation, rose between his
eyes. Was it fancy that a little smile