“This idea of mine,” he added, “has been singularly confirmed by one or two things I have read, and certain chance allusions of travellers in the last few years. I doubt whether our explorers or our journalists have had quite the same opportunities of judging the Delta as myself; and I am not accustomed to form my judgment upon that of other men. Nevertheless, I am struck by the singular way in which all modern research upon the matter seems to converge towards my own original conclusions.” When Mr Burden had said these things, Cosmo, with a wisdom beyond his years, pointed out the extreme risks attending all colonial experiments. The risk was not perhaps a risk to the nation as a whole; but it was invariably present for the individual speculator. His father nodded rhythmically and wisely as his son betrayed in every phrase an increasing caution, but he cut him short with a firm gesture. “No one knows that better than I, Cosmo,” he said. “I would not enter into any scheme that did not promise to obtain a very large support from the public, and, I hope, some kind of official recognition.... When you are as old as I am,” he went on, as Cosmo would have interrupted him, “you will know that official recognition, even if it is unofficial,” here he hesitated for a moment, “even if it is _informal_, is what makes the public come in.” And with this expression of opinion, Mr Burden permitted to linger upon his lips, a faint smile which showed the importance he justly attached to his knowledge of the world. He might have gone further, but Cosmo, for all his freshness, knew what was passing in his father’s mind. There ran in his voice a grace and humility strangely contrasting with his heavy features and attitude. “My dear father,” he said. “If I could do anything ... but no one takes me seriously in business yet.” His eyes smiled as he said it. His father answered proudly. “They will, Cosmo, they will,” and never was his confidence in the future better placed. “I only know men just as friends ... I know what you mean ... the University does that ... I was thinking who of all that lot understands the place best.... You know, for _my_ part,” changing his tone to a digression, “I believe in it, but I mean politically; commercially it wants all sorts of special knowledge ...” then his face filled with thought and he stared at the fire. Mr Burden smiled tolerantly: he had a reminiscent vision of his boy’s rapid successes: of the academic triumph in Modern Languages, and, still better, the firm friendships acquired with men proud to be his equals ... perhaps through these an introduction to families that would accept or even search an alliance: such early affections as.... But his reverie was cut short by an inspiration of Cosmo’s. “Why not ask Lord Benthorpe?” he said. “Lord Benthorpe!” cried Mr Burden. He was surprised and a little shocked, and he let it be perceived.