“England has behaved well throughout this crisis, my friends, it has shown self-control and good-humour in making the best of a very uncomfortable position; and I have no hesitation in declaring before you all, that it is owing to our being essentially a moral nation that God chose us to evangelise other races less felicitous. Let us never forget that we are a practical nation, incapable of being led away from the path of wisdom by moonstruck Utopians; and let us always bear in mind that the Anglo-Saxon is always ready to take his share in a case of rescue, when the means of effecting it lie in conforming to the country’s code of honour.” “There he is again at his old game of British pride,” and Lionel shrugged his shoulders as he tightened his horse’s reins and moved on. “Ah! my lord, be more lenient with him; the man means well, and that is all we want for the present. Naturally he sticks to a few obsolete prejudices, but never mind that, for he has risen to the greatest heights in being for once sincere.” “Well, Mr Vane?” inquired Mrs Archibald, as she turned her face towards the dismayed countenance of the _dilettante_, “what do you think of the Bishop’s address?” “Our ranks are thinning, dear Mrs Archibald; the more reason for us to draw close to one another and to struggle against the rising waves of vulgarity.” The little fetish of Society put his hand to his eyes—what was it? A pang at his heart or a sudden faintness? No one knew, for he soon recovered his self-control and was as flippant as ever. CHAPTER XVIII