She could say no more; for at this moment her neighbour, an elderly and learned gentleman from Oxford, addressed her. He had not hitherto uttered a word, having paid strict attention to every dish and every wine (albeit he was a lean and famished-looking person); but now he remarked that the evenings were hot for the middle of June. He spoke of the danger of having recourse to iced fluids. Then he went on to compare the bathing of the Greeks and Romans with the ablutions of the English—until he was offered strawberries, whereupon, having helped himself largely, he fell into a business-like silence again. When at length the ladies had gone upstairs, Lord Musselburgh came and took the seat just vacated by Mrs. Ellison. "I have a commission from your father, Vin," said he. "I am to persuade you of the sweet reasonableness of his project—that you should for a time become the private secretary of Mr. Ogden." "The private secretary of a man who hasn’t an _h_!" retorted Master Vin, with scorn. "What has that to do with it?" the young nobleman said, coolly. "No. After all, there is something in what your father says. He believes that the next great political and social movement will be the emancipation of the wage-earner—the securing to the producer his fair share of the products of his labour. If that is so, it will be a big thing. It will be years before it comes off, no doubt; but then there will be a great wave of public opinion; and if you are prepared—if you are there—if you are identified with this tremendous social revolution, why, that magnificent wave will peacefully and calmly lift you into the Cabinet. I think that’s about his notion. Very well. If you are willing to take up this work, how could you begin better than by becoming private secretary to Josiah Ogden? There you would come into direct touch with the masses; you would get to know at first hand what they are thinking of, what they are hoping for; subsequently, you could speak with authority. Then there’s another thing, Vin. If you want to become a figure in public life in England, if you want to build a splendid monument for yourself, you should begin at the base. Capture the multitude; be as red-hot a Radical as they can desire; and they won’t mind what you do afterwards. You may accept office; you may be petted by Royalty; but they will rather like it—they will look on it as a compliment paid to one of themselves. And that is where Ogden would come in. He, too, is one of themselves—though he has his hired brougham when he comes to town, and his big dinners at the Menagerie Club. What have you got to do with his _h_’s? If I want to back a horse, or order a pair of boots, or have my hair cut, what does it matter to me whether the man has an _h_, or a superfluity of _h_’s? You make him useful to you; you get what you want; isn’t that enough?"