Mr. Rogers, who is used to Bertie’s plain speech, smiled and replied politely. “Would that we had a great force like your father, to push us into the right path. But I am afraid the great majority of would-be reformers feel as I do.” “It’s your roast beef,” growled Bertie, scowling at his. “It’s only about half the weight of ours and only gives a chap half the blood he needs.” “It is more delicate and easier to digest than yours.” “For American stomachs--that’s the point.” “Are there no gentlemen in politics?” I asked, hurriedly, for Bertie can be rude in a way that Americans cannot understand. “Unquestionably. There are quite a few in the Senate, but in them the political passion is stronger than their fastidiousness. Even the honours and the fame they may win cannot compensate for the dirt they are obliged to come into contact with every week in the year.” “Well, all I can say is, that you haven’t the true sporting instinct in this country,” said Bertie. “Men of the same sort ought to stand by each other. If a certain number of gentlemen are willing to hold their noses and plunge in for the good of the country it’s your duty to close up the ranks behind them and keep the stink as far in the background as possible.” Poor Mr. Rogers blushed and looked most distressed, for that word is tabooed in this country, dear, and I doubt if the poor man ever heard it before. He saw my eyes dance, and gave me a look of such pained surprise that it was my turn to be distressed, for it is so cruel to shatter a man’s ideals! Bertie pursued all unconsciously: “Can’t you see it from my point of view, Rogers? Ain’t you in the habit of standing by your friends in this country?” “Certainly, Duke,” replied Mr. Rogers, suavely; he had quite recovered himself. “I think you will find Americans as loyal as any men on earth.” “Not unless they go the whole length and stand by their own class when there is such a crying need for help as there is here. I suppose there’s a respectable number of gentlemen in the country, ain’t there?” “A very large number. A highly respectable proportion of the seventy millions. I am constrained to make that admission, even though I hand you another weapon.” “It is a weapon, by gad. And I’d like jolly well to understand your supineness. Perhaps you’ll wake up all in a moment and fling off your coats and go to work.” “I wish I could think so. What we lack most, I fancy, is a leader, for unquestionably we have caste loyalty. But when all is said the upper-class in this country is small--compared to the vast sub-stratum--and the country is so huge that homogeneity is almost impossible. So far, every man has made his fight alone; and there _is_ something pathetic in it--come to think of it.” “I think those who have made the fight must be ripping fine men, and I’d like to meet some of them. Will any of them come up here this summer?”