"Yes, Tony. If I marry Lord Wenderby, he will leave the Cabinet." Haversham's eyes dangerously glittered. "You mean," he said, "that Wenderby's political services are a wedding present?" "He isn't sure what he ought to do. I can help him to decide." "I see," said Haversham quietly. "Let me think of this." He rapidly looked at the facts. He saw them clearly, in a hard, political light. Haversham had just come through a session of weary work in the House. Temper was hardening on both sides. The Government was shaken, but its power for mischief was still incalculable. Just at this moment Wenderby's defection would recast the entire position. Haversham swept into the future, thinking only of his country. He turned back to his sister. "Mary, darling. Can you do this?" She looked at him with dismay. She wanted for Peter the help he was giving to Wenderby. "You think it is my duty?" she suggested. "It is your duty." He uttered it like a doom. "But, Antony," she pleaded, "are you sure? Think what it means." He hesitated a moment; then, taking her by the arms, he searched her face. "Can you reasonably do this?" he asked. "Reasonably?" she echoed. "I mean, you are reasonably fond of Wenderby?" "I trust him utterly." "Then it is only Peter." "Peter is my youth," she cried out, "and my right to be loved." He felt her pain, and hated the influence he used. "It is very difficult," he said in a low voice. "Are the things for which we stand worth while? Surely we must think that they are." She again felt the trap closing about her. "How clearly you see things, Tony." "Mary, darling, I see things as Lord Haversham. But I would to God this were not asked of you." The words burst from him as he saw the tears gather in his sister's eyes. At the tenderness of his voice the barriers of her grief broke down. She wept in his arms, but at last drew erect. "You are quite sure, Tony?" she asked again. "Yes, dear." "I will remember this talk when the time comes." Haversham did not inquire when this time would be. He left everything now to his sister, inwardly deciding not to persuade her further. "Meantime," he lightly suggested, "what is happening to Peter?" "He holds me too precious to be loved, but I am afraid there will be trouble when I send him away." "I wonder," reflected Haversham. "I am sure of it," she insisted. "He may surprise you yet," answered Haversham. "There is a blind side to Peter. Sometimes I think he was intended for a monk. He has a dedicated look." "He loves me, Tony, and he will discover it." "Cannot you spare him the knowledge?" Lady Mary shook her head. "Peter loved me at Highbury," she insisted. "I shall have nothing on my conscience."