"A public man, Mr. Leslie, would ill serve his country if he were not especially reserved toward his private friends--when they do not belong to his party." "But, pardon me my ignorance, Lord Lansmere is so well known to be one of your supporters, that I fancied his son must share his sentiments, and be in your confidence." Egerton's brows slightly contracted, and gave a stern expression to a countenance always firm and decided. He, however, answered in a mild tone. "At the entrance into political life, Mr. Leslie, there is nothing in which a young man of your talents should be more on his guard than thinking for himself; he will nearly always think wrong. And I believe that is one reason why young men of talent disappoint their friends, and--remain so long out of office." A haughty flush passed over Randal's brow, and faded away quickly; he bowed in silence. Egerton resumed, as if in explanation, and even in kindly apology-- "Look at Lord L'Estrange himself. What young man could come into life with brighter auspices? Rank, wealth, high animal spirits (a great advantage those same spirits, Mr. Leslie), courage, self-possession, scholarship as brilliant perhaps as your own; and now see how his life is wasted! Why? He always thought fit to think for himself. He could never be broken in to harness, and never will be. The State coach, Mr. Leslie, requires that all the horses should pull together." "With submission, sir," answered Randal, "I should think that there were other reasons why Lord L'Estrange, whatever be his talents--and indeed of these you must be an adequate judge--would never do any thing in public life." "Ay, and what?" said Egerton, quickly. "First," said Randal, shrewdly, "private life has done too much for him. What could public life give to one who needs nothing? Born at the top of the social ladder, why should he put himself voluntarily at the last step, for the sake of climbing up again? And secondly, Lord L'Estrange seems to me a man in whose organization _sentiment_ usurps too large a share for practical existence." "You have a keen eye," said Audley, with some admiration; "keen for one so young.--Poor Harley!" Mr. Egerton's last words were said to himself. He resumed quickly-- "There is something on my mind, my young friend. Let us be frank with each other. I placed before you fairly the advantages and disadvantages of the choice I gave you. To take your degree with such honors as no doubt you would have won, to obtain your fellowship, to go to the bar, with those credentials in favor of your talents;--this was one career. To come at once into public life, to profit by my experience, avail yourself of my interest, to take the chances of rise or fall with a party: this was another. You chose the last. But in so doing, there was a consideration which might weigh with you; and on which, in stating your reasons for your option, you were silent." "What's that, sir?"