him. I feel
like a conspirator--"

"There is no reason why his children should be consumptive. Carry's
physique is Wagnerian, and she is just the woman to look after her
children herself. Zeal's health was thrown to the dogs by a weak
indulgent frivolous mother, and what she left him he disposed of later
when he made as great an ass of himself as might have been expected. He
is a hypochondriac now and would keep a close watch on his heir's health
and habits; you may be sure of that. He ought not to be in London
now--it is stifling--went up for some business meeting or other--seemed
to wish to avoid details. I hope to heaven he has not been relieving the
monotony of his life by some rotten speculation. I begged him to come
down here, but he wouldn't--says that his hand is no longer steady
enough to hold a gun--it's awful!--worse because I'm not merely fond of
him and regretting the possible loss of a good friend--I have felt like
a beast all day. But I can't help it. For God's sake write and persuade
him to go to Davos at once--and picture the delights of a pretty and
devoted nurse. I feel as if I had ashes in my mouth--and yesterday I was
so happy!" he burst out, with the petulance of a child.

"I will write to-night," she said, soothingly. "He has a very slow form
of consumption; I have the assurance of his doctors. And at least he has
committed himself with Carry, and announced his intention to marry as
soon as a sojourn somewhere has made him feel fit again. You know how
much better he always is when he comes back. Put it out of your mind
to-night. I want you to be as happy as I am. Everybody is talking of the
brilliance of your campaign--"

"Much good brilliance will do me if I am to rot in the Upper House!"

"Put it out of your mind; don't let apprehension control you for a
moment. Believe me, will-power counts in life for more than everything
else combined, and if it isn't watched it weakens."

"All right, mummy. You are never so original as when you preach. So
Julia Kaye came down this afternoon? Talk about will. Mine should be of
pure steel; I have ordered her out of my consciousness these last weeks
at the point of the bayonet. She has written me exactly three times.
However--those letters were charming," he added, with the sudden smile
that transfigured his face, routing the overbearing and contemptuous
expression that had won him so many enemies; friends and flatterers and
the happy circumstances of his