of one that is—­reduce themselves to the dimensions of pigmies; they have the cry of infants.  You reply, Foresight is an element of love of country and mankind.  But how often is not the foresight guess-work?  ’He has not spoken of the dawn project.  To-day he is repeating one of uncle’s novelties—­“Sultry Tories.”  The sultry Tory sits in the sun and prophecies woefully of storm, it appears.  Your accusation that I am one at heart amuses me; I am not quite able to deny it.  “Sultriness” I am not conscious of.  But it would appear to be an epithet for the Conservatives of wealth.  So that England, being very wealthy, we are to call it a sultry country?  You are much wanted, for where there is no “middleman Liberal” to hold the scales for them, these two have it all their own way, which is not good for them.

Captain Beauchamp quotes you too.  It seems that you once talked to him of a machine for measuring the force of blows delivered with the fist, and compared his efforts to those of one perpetually practising at it:  and this you are said to have called “The case of the Constitutional Realm and the extreme Radical.”  Elsewhere the Radical smites at iron or rotten wood; in England it is a cushion on springs.  Did you say it?  He quotes it as yours, half acquiescingly, and ruefully.

’For visitors, we have had Captain Baskelett for two minutes, and Lord Palmet, who stayed longer, and seems to intend to come daily.  He attempts French with Madame de R., and amuses her a little:  a silver foot and a ball of worsted.  Mr. and Mrs. Grancey Lespel have called, and Lord and Lady Croyston.  Colonel Halkett, Miss Halkett, and Mr. Tuckham come frequently.  Captain Beauchamp spoke to her yesterday of her marriage.  ’Madame de R. leaves us to-morrow.  Her brother is a delightful, gay-tempered, very handsome boyish Frenchman—­not her equal, to my mind, for I do not think Frenchmen comparable to the women of France; but she is exceedingly grave, with hardly a smile, and his high spirits excite Nevil’s, so it is pleasant to see them together.’

The letter was handed to Lady Romfrey.  She read through it thoughtfully till she came to the name of Nevil, when she frowned.  On the morrow she pronounced it a disingenuous letter.  Renee had sent her these lines: 

’I should come to you if my time were not restricted; my brother’s leave of absence is short.  I have done here what lay in my power, to show you I have learnt something in the school of self-immolation.  I have seen Mlle. Halkett.  She is a beautiful young woman, deficient only in words, doubtless.  My labour, except that it may satisfy you, was the vainest of tasks.  She marries a ruddy monsieur of a name that I forget, and of the bearing of a member of the gardes du corps, without the stature.  Enfin, madame, I have done my duty, and do not regret it, since I may hope that it will win for me some approbation and a portion of the esteem of a lady to whom I am indebted for that which is now the best of life to me:  and I do not undervalue it in saying I would gladly have it stamped on brass and deposited beside my father’s.  I have my faith.  I would it were Nevil’s too—­and yours, should you be in need of it.