He laughed heartily (these Americans can flatter so with their laugh). “I am quite discomfited,” he said, “and I can only add that I have far more reason to be poetical than yourself.” “Very neat,” said Bertie. I can imagine my beloved brother thinking it worth while to say the charming things these men do. “Now tell me some more of your politics,” I persisted. “Mr. Rogers thinks politics are not respectable, but if the stables can be cleaned in one country they can in another.” “Exactly, but if I went in for cleaning, in other words for reform--I should sacrifice a great deal. I am lawyer for one of the greatest Trusts in the United States, and as I could not consistently as a reformer--in the present exaggerated state of public opinion--remain in such a position,--that would mean the sacrifice of a large slice of my income.” “I must say I admire your frankness, but _how_ can you be counsel for a Trust?” “Why not?--so long as I have not taken a stand.” “How can an honest lawyer work for dishonest men?” “The word dishonest, dear Lady Helen, is usually applied to Trusts by men who are not in them. Trusts are an evolution, nothing more, a combination effected that some may live rather than that all shall die. I am not going into sordid details, but I will add that the question never arose that did not have two sides, and that one side is as entitled to able legal counsel as the other. There is no reason in the world why this particular Trust, which is open and above board, should not have the best it can pay for, and as it has done me the honour to select me, I in return have given it the very best of my ability--which should salve any conscience. I feel the same way when defending a man against the combined prejudices of the community. He is entitled to the best defence he can command, and being a human being, is as worthy of it as his more approved opponent.” This was the longest speech I had ever heard him make, and I understood it as a defence of himself out of deference to me. So, I smiled at him in appreciation of the compliment, but replied: “Still, I don’t see why you value the money more than the public honour you might win.” “Money is a very good thing, Lady Helen, to a man with expensive tastes and a passion for travelling. If I went into politics I should not touch its money bags, for political money is invariably dirty; moreover, I should be obliged to sacrifice more or less of my general practice--and the result would be that I should be a comparatively poor man once more.” “Are you self-made?” I asked eagerly. Once more he laughed heartily, and his remarkable eyes expressed that I might say anything I chose.