"But," she said, trying to speak in her ordinary voice, "--perhaps I ought to have begun by saying this--I wonder if Rachel is the right sort of wife for a rising politician?" "She is the right sort of wife for me," said Rendel. "That is all that matters." "I'm afraid," Lady Gore said, "she isn't ambitious." "Afraid!" said Rendel. "She has no ardent political convictions." "I have enough for both," said Rendel. "And--and--such as she has are naturally her father's, and therefore opposed to yours." "Then we won't talk about politics," Rendel said, "and that will be a welcome relief." "I'm afraid also," the mother went on, smiling, "that she is not abreast of the age--that she doesn't write, doesn't belong to a club, doesn't even bicycle, and can't take photographs." "Oh, what a perfect woman!" ejaculated Rendel. "In fact I must admit that she has no bread-winning talent, and that in case of need she could not earn her own livelihood." "If she had anything to do with me," said Rendel, "I should be ashamed if she tried." "She is not as clever as you are." "But even supposing that to be true," said Rendel, "isn't that a state of things that makes for happiness?" "Well," replied Lady Gore, "I believe that as far as women are concerned you are behind the age too." "I am quite certain of it," Rendel said, "and it is therefore to be rejoiced over that the only woman I have ever thought of wanting should not insist on being in front of it." "The only woman? Is that so?" Lady Gore asked. "It is indeed," he said, with conviction. "And you are--how old?" "Thirty-two." "It sounds as if this were the real thing, I must say," she said, with a smile. "There is not much doubt of that," said he quietly. "There never was any one more certain than I am of what I want." "That is a step towards getting it," Lady Gore said. "I believe it is," he said fervently. "You have told me all the things your daughter has not--that I am thankful she hasn't--but I know, besides, the things she has that go to make her the only woman I want to pass my life with--she is everything a woman ought to be--she really is." "My dear young friend," said Lady Gore, with a shallow pretence of laughing at his enthusiasm, "you really are rather far gone!" "Yes," said Rendel, "there is no doubt about that. I have not, by the way, attempted to tell you about things that are supposed to matter more than those we have been talking about, but that don't matter really nearly so much--I mean my income and prospects, and all that sort of thing. But perhaps I had better tell Sir William all that." "You can tell him about your income," said Lady Gore, "if you like." "I have enough to live upon," the young man said. "I don't think that on that score Sir William can raise any objection." "Let us hope he won't on any other," she replied. "We must tell him what he is to think."