lf returning
to those towers, and beneath them crossing the floor; joining the
revolutionaries, the Radicals, the freethinkers, scourging his present
Party, the party of authority and institutions. The idea struck him as
supremely comic, and he laughed out loud in the street....

The Club which Lord Dennis frequented was in St. James's untouched by the
tides of the waters of fashion--steadily swinging to its moorings in a
quiet backwater, and Miltoun found his uncle in the library. He was
reading a volume of Burton's travels, and drinking tea.

"Nobody comes here," he said, "so, in spite of that word on the door, we
shall talk. Waiter, bring some more tea, please."

Impatiently, but with a sort of pity, Miltoun watched Lord Dennis's
urbane movements, wherein old age was, pathetically, trying to make each
little thing seem important, if only to the doer. Nothing his
great-uncle could say would outweigh the warning of his picturesque old
figure! To be a bystander; to see it all go past you; to let your sword
rust in its sheath, as this poor old fellow had done! The notion of
explaining what he had come about was particularly hateful to Miltoun;
but since he had given his word, he nerved himself with secret anger, and
began:

"I promised my mother to ask you a question, Uncle Dennis. You know of
my attachment, I believe?"

Lord Dennis nodded.

"Well, I have joined my life to this lady's. There will be no scandal,
but I consider it my duty to resign my seat, and leave public life alone.
Is that right or wrong according to, your view?"

Lord Dennis looked at his nephew in silence. A faint flush coloured his
brown cheeks. He had the appearance of one travelling in mind over the
past.

"Wrong, I think," he said, at last.

"Why, if I may ask?"

"I have not the pleasure of knowing this lady, and am therefore somewhat
in the dark; but it appears to me that your decision is not fair to her."

"That is beyond me," said Miltoun.

Lord Dennis answered firmly:

"You have asked me a frank question, expecting a frank answer, I
suppose?"

Miltoun nodded.

"Then, my dear, don't blame me if what I say is unpalatable."

"I shall not."

"Good! You say you are going to give up public life for the sake of your
conscience. I should have no criticism to make if it stopped there."

He paused, and for quite a minute remained silent, evidently searching
for words to express some intricate thread of thought.

"B