“I am thinking of selling the Grange,” she said. “So long as there was my brother it seemed to me a certain sort of duty that the offshoots of a great family should keep up an appearance and have a fair country residence.” Then she smiled. “I am afraid, however, that my views are changing. I don’t look upon the Gascoynes as quite such great people as I used to do, though I still think that if one bears a great name one owes it a duty.” “I am half a Jew,” I said, boldly, “and as an Oriental I have a great respect for caste and authority.” “Do you think that is why the Jews succeed so well?” “Yes; their chief aim is to remain at peace with the powers that be, and as Orientals they are satisfied that authority in this country abuses its privileges very little. They have no craving for more liberty.” “They are a curious race.” “I am not a Jew by religion, you know. I was baptised a Christian.” She smiled. “I don’t wish to be rude, but is that as far as your Christianity has reached?” “My mother was a very religious woman. That is, she tested everything by her conscience, and always held that that was an unfailing standard.” It was really quite wonderful on what a high platform I could conduct a conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Gascoyne came in, and we went to dinner. The affection that had arisen between these two women was quite extraordinary, and it was surprising to see Miss Gascoyne yielding to her aunt something of the deference of a daughter, although I am certain she would have rejected the insinuation that she could ever put anyone in the place of the mother she had idolised. The conversation turned on the Gascoyne family. “Do you know,” said Mr. Gascoyne, “I was quite astonished to find how near our friend Israel is to the succession.” It was an awkward remark, and Mr. Gascoyne evidently felt it to be so as soon as he had made it. The subject was allowed to drop at the moment, but Mr. Gascoyne revived it when we were alone. “I can’t think how I came to make such a foolish remark, Israel. It cannot have failed to remind them both of what you have gained by their loss.” This was exactly what I feared. “I cannot be said to have gained much. Lord Gascoyne has a son and heir.” “Let us consider. If Lord Gascoyne and his son were to die, you succeed as heir to your mother; that is, of course, when the two Henry Gascoynes, Ughtred, and myself, are out of the way—and none of us count for much. You see, the succession does not reach the female heir till it has been carried down to the last male heir. Rather hard on the women of the female lines, but so it is.” “I am afraid, sir, it will be my lot to drudge along in the City all my life.” “You are not the sort of person who ends as a drudge, Israel. Besides, go on as you are doing, and who knows what may happen.” I guessed by the intonation of his voice that he was considering whether he should tell me more of his intentions.