"Yes," he replied. "I treat it coolly. If I treated it warmly or hotly the effect produced would be about the same. My influence upon civil service is just what it might be expected to be, and no more. Its weight is easily carried." "I beg your pardon," said Tredennis, feeling the justice and adroitness of the speech. "Not at all," Arbuthnot answered. "It is not necessary. It makes you lose your hold on yourself to be brought face to face with the thing. It is quite natural. It has had the same effect on me, and I am a cold-blooded fellow, and a frivolous fellow into the bargain." "I have never thought of the matter before," said Tredennis, disturbedly. "I feel as if my indifference is something to be ashamed of." "If you give your attention as a duty to such subjects," was Arbuthnot's response, "you will be kept actively employed. If you take my advice, you will let them alone." "The trouble is," said Tredennis, "that every one seems to let them alone." Richard regarded him, from his place on the sofa-cushions, delightedly. "Here's an example for you, Larry," he said. "Profit by him. Everything is an object to him,--everything is worth while. He is an example to us all. Let us all profit by him." "Oh, he began right," laughed Arbuthnot. "He began where you began," returned Richard. "I?" was the airy answer; "I never began at all. That is my little difficulty. I am the other one. I told you there was another one. I represent him." Tredennis regarded him steadily. For the first time in the course of their acquaintance he began to suspect him. His manner was too light altogether, and the odd shade which had fallen upon his eyes before during the evening showed itself again. "Let us hear about the other one," he said.