I got up from my chair. "I go back with the promise of your neutrality?" I asked. "Neutrality is surrender," he said. "Yes, I think so. Young blood is in the question. Besides--as you see yourself--the prospect may to a young man seem--rather dazzling." "Let me alone, Mr. Austin, let me alone, for God's sake!" "I go the moment you wish me to, Lord Fillingford. I carry my answer with me--isn't it so?" Wonderfully recovering himself--with the most rapid transition to an orderly self-composure--he came and sat down at his table again. "I shall see my son on this matter directly after lunch. It will be proper to convey immediate news of our decision to Breysgate Priory. I shouldn't like--in the event we both contemplate--to appear tardy in paying my respects to Miss Driver. At what hour to-morrow afternoon do you suppose that it would be convenient to her to receive me?" "I should think that about four o'clock would be quite convenient," I answered. With that, I rose to my feet--my mission was ended. Neither quite as we had hoped, nor quite as we had feared. We had not bullied--we had hardly threatened. If we had bribed, we had not bribed the man himself. He--he himself--would have had none of us; for him--himself--the betrayal at Hatcham Ford governed the situation and his feelings about it. But he saw himself as a trustee--a trustee for unborn generations of men, born to inherit--yet, as things stood, born more than half disinherited! There was no telling what Jenny thought of. Very likely she had thought of that, when she made her bribe no mere provision--nor even merely that "handsome thing"--but the new bestowal of a lost ancestral heritage. Amid profound incompatibilities, they both had broad views, long outlooks--a large conception of the bearings of what men do. Jenny had not been so wrong in thinking of him--nor he in thinking that he could take her with what she brought. Powerfully had Octon, in his rude irresistible natural force, and its natural appeal, broken the current, real if subtle, between them. I went up to him, holding out my hand. We had won the victory; I did not feel very triumphant. "Mr. Austin," he said, as he shook hands, "we make a mistake if we expect not to have done to us as we do to others, I learn that as I grow older. Do you understand what I'm at, when I say this?" "Not very well, I confess, Lord Fillingford." "Once I went to Miss Driver, holding what I have--my old name, my old place, my position, my title--I can't think of anything they've given me except care and a hopeless sense of my own inadequacy--holding those in my hand and asking for her money. I see now the opposite thing--she comes holding the money, and asks for what I have. I didn't have my way. She'll have hers." "There are the young people." It was all I had to say. "Ask her to leave me a little of my son. Because there's no doubt. You've taken away all my weapons, Mr. Austin."