“For this reason, Twining, that they have no 'prestige,'--no, Twining, they have no prestige. Now, sir, wealth unassociated with prestige is just like--what shall I say?--it is, as it were, a sort of local rank,--a kind of thing like being brigadier in the Bombay Army, but only a lieutenant when you 're at home; so long, therefore, as these fellows are rich, they have their influence. Let them suffer a reverse of fortune, however, and where will they be, sir?” “Can't possibly say; but quite certain your Lordship knows,--perfectly sure of it,” rattled out Twining. “I do, sir. It is a subject on which I have bestowed considerable thought. I may go further, and say, one which I have reduced to a sort of theory. These men are signs of the times,--emblems of our era; just like the cholera, the electric telegraph, or the gold-fields of Australia. We must not accept them as normal, do you perceive? They are the abnormal incidents of our age.” “Quite true, most just, very like the electric telegraph!” muttered Twining. “And by that very condition only exercising a passing influence on our society, sir,” said his Lordship, pursuing his own train of thought. “Perfectly correct, rapid as lightning.” “And when they do pass away, sir,” continued the Viscount, “they leave no trace of their existence behind them. The bubble buret, the surface of the stream remains without a ripple. I myself may live to see; you, in all probability, will live to see.” “Your Lordship far more likely,--sincerely trust as much,” said Twining, bowing. “Well, sir, it matters little which of us is to witness the extinction of this Plutocracy.” And as his Lordship enunciated this last word, he walked off like one who had totally exhausted his subject. CHAPTER VIII. MR. DUNN.