was inclined to be a little hard upon his brother in that he had taken a part in it.
'I think that the matter is one open to discussion,' said the host.
'Well, I hope so,' said Graham. 'At any rate I have heard no arguments which ought to make us feel that our mouths are closed.'
'Arguments on such a matter are worth nothing at all,' said the baron. 'A man with what is called a logical turn of mind may prove anything or disprove anything; but be never convinces anybody. On any matter that is near to a man's heart, he is convinced by the tenour of his own thoughts as he goes on living, not by the arguments of a logician, or even by the eloquence of an orator. Talkers are apt to think that if their listener cannot answer them they are bound to give way; but non-talkers generally take a very different view of the subject.'
'But does that go to show that a question should not be ventilated?' asked Felix.
'I don't mean to be uncivil,' said the baron, 'but of all words in the language there is none which I dislike so much as that word ventilation. A man given to ventilating subjects is worse than a man who has a mission.'
'Bores of that sort, however,' said Graham, 'will show themselves from time to time and are not easily put down. Some one will have a mission to reform our courts of law, and will do it too.'
'I only hope it may not be in my time,' said the baron.
'I can't go quite so far as that,' said the other judge. 'But no doubt we all have the same feeling more or less. I know pretty well what my friend Graham is driving at.'
'And in your heart you agree with me,' said Graham.
'If you would carry men's heads with you they would do you more good than their hearts,' said the judge. And then as the wine bottles were stationary, the subject was cut short and they went into the drawing-room.
Graham had no opportunity that evening of telling his tale to Madeline Staveley. The party was too large for such tale-telling or else not large enough. And then the evening in the drawing-room was over before it had seemed to begin; and while he was yet hoping that there might be some turn in his favour, Lady Staveley wished him good-night, and Madeline of course did the same. As he again pressed her hand he could not but think how little he had said to her since he had been in the house, and yet it seemed to him as though that little had made him more intimate with her than he had ever found himself before. He had made an attempt to separate himself from the company by proposing to go and call on Mrs. Baker in her own quarters; but Madeline had declared it to be too late for such an expedition, explaining that when Mrs. Baker had no patient on hand she was accustomed to go early to her bed. In the present
