e.

"Day off, my dear fellow? Or have you come up to hear Brabrook pitch
into us? He's rather late this time--we've got rid of that balloon
business no trouble after all."

And he eyed Miltoun with that clear grey stare of his, so cool, level,
and curious. Now, what sort of bird is this? it seemed saying. Certainly
not the partridge I should have expected from its breeding!

Miltoun's answer: "I came up to tell you some thing, sir," riveted his
father's stare for a second longer than was quite urbane.

It would not be true to say that Lord Valleys was afraid of his son.
Fear was not one of his emotions, but he certainly regarded him with a
respectful curiosity that bordered on uneasiness. The oligarchic temper
of Miltoun's mind and political convictions almost shocked one who
knew both by temperament and experience how to wait in front. This
instruction he had frequently had occasion to give his jockeys when he
believed his horses could best get home first in that way. And it was
an instruction he now longed to give his son. He himself had 'waited
in front' for over fifty years, and he knew it to be the finest way
of insuring that he would never be compelled to alter this desirable
policy--for something in Lord Valleys' character made him fear that,
in real emergency, he would exert himself to the point of the gravest
discomfort sooner than be left to wait behind. A fellow like young
Harbinger, of course, he understood--versatile, 'full of beans,' as
he expressed it to himself in his more confidential moments, who had
imbibed the new wine (very intoxicating it was) of desire for social
reform. He would have to be given his head a little--but there would be
no difficulty with him, he would never 'run out'--light handy build of
horse that only required steadying at the corners. He would want to
hear himself talk, and be let feel that he was doing something. All very
well, and quite intelligible. But with Miltoun (and Lord Valleys felt
this to be no, mere parental fancy) it was a very different business.
His son had a way of forcing things to their conclusions which was
dangerous, and reminded him of his mother-in-law. He was a baby in
public affairs, of course, as yet; but as soon as he once got going,
the intensity of his convictions, together with his position, and
real gift--not of the gab, like Harbinger's--but of restrained, biting
oratory, was sure to bring him to the front with a bound in the present
state of p