mption of champagne in certain strata of society. His gestures, as
he examined from time to time the end of the cigarette, or audibly blew
forth spreading clouds, seemed to signify that in his opinion he was
going the pace, cutting a dash, and seeing life. This naivete had its
charm.

The three men, left alone by their women, were discussing politics,
which then meant nothing but the subject of Home Rule. Darius agreed
almost eagerly with everything that Albert Benbow said. Albert was a
calm and utterly sound Conservative. He was one of those politicians
whose conviction of rightness is so strong that they cannot help
condescending towards an opponent. Albert would say persuasively to
Liberal acquaintances: "Now just think a moment!" apparently sure that
the only explanation of their misguided views was that they never had
thought for a moment. Or he would say: "Surely all patriotic
Liberals--" But one day when Edwin had said to him with a peculiar
accent: "Surely all patriotic Conservatives--" he had been politely
offended for the rest of the evening, and Edwin and he had not mentioned
politics to each other for a long time. Albert had had much influence
over his father-in-law. And now Albert said, after Darius had concurred
and concurred--

"You're one of the right sort, after all, old gentleman."

Throughout the evening he had spoken to Darius in an unusually loud
voice, as though it was necessary to shout to a man who had only two
years to live.

"All I say is," said Darius, "country before party!"

"Why, of course!" Albert smiled, confident and superior. "Haven't I
been telling you for years you're one of us?"

Edwin, too, smiled, as superiorly as he could, but unhappily not with
sufficient superiority to wither Albert's smile. He said nothing,
partly from timid discretion, but partly because he was preoccupied with
the thought of the malignant and subtle power working secretly in his
father's brain. How could the doctor tell? What was the process of
softening? Did his father know, in that sick brain of his, that he was
condemned; or did he hope to recover? Now, as he leaned against the
mantelpiece, protruding his body in an easy posture, he might have been
any ordinary man, and not a victim; he might have been a man of business
relaxing after a long day of hard and successful cerebral activity.

It seemed strange to Edwin that Albert could talk as he did to one whom
destiny had set apart, t