Part 14 (1/2)
”Pardon me, I can tell you perfectly. There's one thing I always immensely want--to keep out a Tory.”
”I see. That's a great philosophy.”
”It will do very well. And I desire the good of the country. I'm not ashamed of that.”
”And can you give me an idea of what it is--the good of the country?”
”I know perfectly what it isn't. It isn't what the Tories want to do.”
”What do they want to do?”
”Oh it would take me long to tell you. All sorts of trash.”
”It would take you long, and it would take them longer! All they want to do is to prevent _us_ from doing. On our side we want to prevent them from preventing us. That's about as clearly as we all see it. So on both sides it's a beautiful, lucid, inspiring programme.”
”I don't believe in you,” Mrs. Dallow replied to this, leaning back on her sofa.
”I hope not, Julia, indeed!” He paused a moment, still with his face toward her and his elbows on his knees; then he pursued: ”You're a very accomplished woman and a very zealous one; but you haven't an idea, you know--not to call an idea. What you mainly want is to be at the head of a political salon; to start one, to keep it up, to make it a success.”
”Much you know me!” Julia protested; but he could see, through the dimness, that her face spoke differently.
”You'll have it in time, but I won't come to it,” Nick went on.
”You can't come less than you do.”
”When I say you'll have it I mean you've already got it. That's why I don't come.”
”I don't think you know what you mean,” said Mrs. Dallow. ”I've an idea that's as good as any of yours, any of those you've treated me to this evening, it seems to me--the simple idea that one ought to do something or other for one's country.”
”'Something or other' certainly covers all the ground. There's one thing one can always do for one's country, which is not to be afraid.”
”Afraid of what?”
Nick Dormer waited a little, as if his idea amused him, but he presently said, ”I'll tell you another time. It's very well to talk so glibly of standing,” he added; ”but it isn't absolutely foreign to the question that I haven't got the cash.”
”What did you do before?” she asked.
”The first time my father paid.”
”And the other time?”
”Oh Mr. Carteret.”
”Your expenses won't be at all large; on the contrary,” said Julia.
”They shan't be; I shall look out sharp for that. I shall have the great Hutchby.”
”Of course; but you know I want you to do it well.” She paused an instant and then: ”Of course you can send the bill to me.”
”Thanks awfully; you're tremendously kind. I shouldn't think of that.”