were married to a man with the welfare of his country at heart—a man strenuous to use his talents for the public good—you would not take such a contemptuous view of a political career. You might get to think that the life of an orator whose eloquence influences the destiny of a people, is not so very inferior in interest to that of a painter or a poet!"
He spoke with an irritability which rasped the ear. And Elizabeth, while she in no way repented of her plain speaking, hastened to apply such salve as she could to his wounded vanity.
"I do not take a contemptuous view of a political career; you mistake me. I know it is a very important and useful one, and I honour men who devote their energies to the public good. But, personally speaking, I should dislike to lead the sort of life that belonging to a public man would entail. I am quite unfitted for it, and have no social ambition."
"There is a social ambition that is vulgar, and another that is not," he replied, by no means soothed, for he saw the object of his ambition which he had pursued so obstinately growing more and more intangible. "The ambition to live surrounded by whatever is best worth knowing—you will have that some day, if yon haven't it now. 'Position' affords facilities for this. It is one of the few advantages left to 'position' nowadays. But it is a definite one—one which I suspect you would find wanting among your women-artists. They'll talk nothing but 'shop.'"
"Oh, I hope not!" laughed Elizabeth, as they reached the door of the pension. "But, anyway, I had rather
