Lord Windlehurst looked at Hylda approvingly. She has the real gift--little information, but much knowledge, the primary gift of public life. “Information is full of traps; knowledge avoids them, it reads men; and politics is men--and foreign affairs, perhaps! She is remarkable. I’ve made some hay in the political world, not so much as the babblers think, but I hadn’t her ability at twenty-five.” “Why didn’t she see through Eglington?” “My dear Betty, he didn’t give her time. He carried her off her feet. You know how he can talk.” “That’s the trouble. She was clever, and liked a clever man, and he--!” “Quite so. He’d disprove his own honest parentage, if it would help him on--as you say.” “I didn’t say it. Now don’t repeat that as from me. I’m not clever enough to think of such things. But that Eglington lot--I knew his father and his grandfather. Old Broadbrim they called his grandfather after he turned Quaker, and he didn’t do that till he had had his fling, so my father used to say. And Old Broadbrim’s father was called I-want-to-know. He was always poking his nose into things, and playing at being a chemist-like this one and the one before. They all fly off. This one’s father used to disappear for two or three years at a time. This one will fly off, too. You’ll see! “He is too keen on Number One for that, I fancy. He calculates like a mathematician. As cool as a cracksman of fame and fancy.” The Duchess dropped the fan in her lap. “My dear, I’ve said nothing as bad as that about him. And there he is at the Foreign Office!” “Yet, what has he done, Betty, after all? He has never cheated at cards, or forged a cheque, or run away with his neighbour’s wife.” “There’s no credit in not doing what you don’t want to do. There’s no virtue in not falling, when you’re not tempted. Neighbour’s wife! He hasn’t enough feeling to face it. Oh no, he’ll not break the heart of his neighbour’s wife. That’s melodrama, and he’s a cold-blooded artist. He will torture that sweet child over there until she poisons him, or runs away.” “Isn’t he too clever for that? She has a million!” “He’ll not realise it till it’s all over. He’s too selfish to see--how I hate him!” Lord Windlehurst smiled indulgently at her. “Ah, you never hated any one--not even the Duke.” “I will not have you take away my character. Of course I’ve hated, or I wouldn’t be worth a button. I’m not the silly thing you’ve always thought me.” His face became gentler. “I’ve always thought you one of the wisest women of this world--adventurous, but wise. If it weren’t too late, if my day weren’t over, I’d ask the one great favour, Betty, and--” She tapped his arm sharply with her fan. “What a humbug you are--the Great Pretender! But tell me, am I not right about Eglington?”