d. "So you've got him at Monkland now. Harbinger still with you?"

"Yes. I don't think Harbinger has much stamina.

"Politically?"

Miltoun nodded.

"I rather resent his being on our side--I don't think he does us any
good. You've seen that cartoon, I suppose; it cuts pretty deep. I
couldn't recognize you amongst the old women, sir."

Lord Valleys smiled impersonally.

"Very clever thing. By the way; I shall win the Eclipse, I think."

And thus, spasmodically, the conversation ran till the last servant had
left the room.

Then Miltoun, without preparation, looked straight at his father and
said:

"I want to marry Mrs. Noel, sir."

Lord Valleys received the shot with exactly the same expression as that
with which he was accustomed to watch his horses beaten. Then he raised
his wineglass to his lips; and set it down again untouched. This was the
only sign he gave of interest or discomfiture.

"Isn't this rather sudden?"

Miltoun answered: "I've wanted to from the moment I first saw her."

Lord Valleys, almost as good a judge of a man and a situation as of a
horse or a pointer dog, leaned back in his chair, and said with faint
sarcasm:

"My dear fellow, it's good of you to have told me this; though, to be
quite frank, it's a piece of news I would rather not have heard."

A dusky flush burned slowly up in Miltoun's cheeks. He had underrated
his father; the man had coolness and courage in a crisis.

"What is your objection, sir?" And suddenly he noticed that a wafer in
Lord Valleys' hand was quivering. This brought into his eyes no look
of compunction, but such a smouldering gaze as the old Tudor Churchman
might have bent on an adversary who showed a sign of weakness. Lord
Valleys, too, noticed the quivering of that wafer, and ate it.

"We are men of the world," he said.

Miltoun answered: "I am not."

Showing his first real symptom of impatience Lord Valleys rapped out:

"So be it! I am."

"Yes?", said Miltoun.

"Eustace!"

Nursing one knee, Miltoun faced that appeal without the faintest
movement. His eyes continued to burn into his father's face. A tremor
passed over Lord Valleys' heart. What intensity of feeling there was
in the fellow, that he could look like this at the first breath of
opposition!

He reached out and took up the cigar-box; held it absently towards his
son, and drew it quickly back.

"I forgot," he said; "you don't."

And lighting a cigar, he smoked gravely, looking str