This compelled me to speak somewhat intimately of my personal affairs, and to make it clear to him that it was impossible for me to change the whole current of my life and take part in politics. My explanations convinced him, and the subject was dropped. Though I was deeply moved by the compliment implied by his request, the dramatic critic was still alert at the back of my head and chuckling with inward appreciation. The scene had been worthy of Booth at his best. Cardinal Richelieu could not have surpassed him. As a matter of fact, I have always thought of him since then as “the Cardinal,” and have used the title when speaking of him to intimate friends. Though I had other interviews with him, none of them equalled the first in the exquisite attention to detail in the stage setting—the low chair, the open fireplace and the turning towards me with infinite suavity and appeal to make his request. But I do not wish to leave the impression that he was consciously an actor. He naturally made use of his surroundings for dramatic effect. It was not so much that he put on a grand manner as that it was impossible for him ever to lay it off. It was part of the man. The same man also said:— One of the last interviews I enjoyed strengthened the impression of the “Cardinal.” On the day on which he started to Winnipeg for that triumphal tour which raised such high hope before his defeat in 1917, I had an hour with him in his home. He received me in his study on the second floor. He had just been taking a nap to prepare himself for the fatigues of the journey. He had on a dressing gown of which I remember that the predominating color was a decorative figure in dull red. The “Cardinal” received me with his customary graciousness, and for an hour we reviewed the chances of the campaign. When I was leaving him he followed me to the top of the stairs, and as he shook hands he said, with that peculiar serenity that was one of his outstanding characteristics in his later days: “I may be defeated, but I will not be dishonoured.” * * * * * On one occasion Sir Wilfrid spoke in the pavilion of the Horticultural Gardens. During his address hisses came from the audience when he mentioned a paper that had taken issue with him. Sir Wilfrid exclaimed, rebukingly, “How dare any man hiss when another has the courage of his convictions? I do not find fault with the paper because it does not agree with me. We Liberals have our differences, but that fact does not justify hisses.” * * * * *