"I was referring rather," said Henry with some coldness, "to the opportunity it will afford you of preparing yourself for your new position. If you choose to work hard you might by that time have put yourself in the way of becoming a useful and desirable acquisition to the House." "Why, of course," said Tony. "I never thought of looking at it like that." He paused. "What would you advise me to work at?" "If I were you," said Henry, "I should take up some special subject--it doesn't much matter what it is--foreign affairs, temperance, agriculture--anything which is frequently before the House. Make yourself more or less of an authority on that, and then you will have a recognized position from the very start." He stopped to consult his watch. "I am afraid I shall have to be going," he added. "I have promised to look in and say a few words to the West Hampstead Anti-Vivisection League, who are holding their annual meeting to-night, and it's getting on for ten o'clock now." He got up and held out a large, white, soft hand, which Tony accepted with a certain physical reluctance that hands of that sort always inspired in him. "I am pleased--very pleased," continued Henry, "that you are at last beginning to realize the responsibilities of your position. When the time comes you may rest assured that Laura and I will give you any assistance in our power. In the meantime, if you want any advice about what to read or study, you can't do better than to talk it over with Guy." Tony nodded again. "I expect we shall have lots of interesting chats together," he said. He rang the bell for Henry's car, and accompanying his cousin into the hall, helped him on with his coat. They stood talking in the doorway until a well-appointed Daimler brougham rolled up noiselessly to the porch, and then with another handshake and a final good-night Tony returned to the dining-room. He sat down heavily in his lately vacated chair. "If you have any real love for me, Guy," he said, "you will pass me the brandy." Guy handed across a delicately shaped old Venetian decanter, out of which Tony helped himself in generous fashion. "If I had an inn," he observed, "I should pay Henry to sit in the bar parlour and talk about politics. I am sure he would drive the customers to drink." In spite of himself Guy smiled. "I think you are very unfair and very ungrateful," he replied serenely. "Henry may be a little pompous at times, but after all he means well, and he has your best interests at heart." Tony lit himself another cigar. "All my relations have," he said, "and the worst of it is, it's such a horribly infectious complaint. If I am not uncommonly careful I shall be catching it myself." "You have managed to resist it pretty successfully so far," observed Guy drily.