discussion was useless.

"Let the Liberal fever wear out," said one of his friends; "you
will find, Lord Earle, that all young men favor it. Conservatism
is the result of age and experience. By the time your son takes
a position in the world, he will have passed through many stages
of Liberalism."

Lord Earle devoutly believed it. When the first shock of his
disappointment was over, Ronald's political zeal began to amuse
him. He liked to see the boy earnest in everything. He smiled
when Ronald, in his clear, young voice, read out the speeches of
the chief of his party. He smiled when the young man, eager to
bring theory into practice, fraternized with the tenant farmers,
and visited families from whom his father shrunk in aristocratic
dread.

There was little doubt that in those days Ronald Earl believed
himself called to a great mission. He dreamed of the time when
the barriers of caste would be thrown down, when men would have
equal rights and privileges, when the aristocracy of intellect
and virtue would take precedence of noble birth, when wealth
would be more equally distributed, and the days when one man
perished of hunger while another reveled in luxury should cease
to be. His dreams were neither exactly Liberal nor Radical; they
were simply Utopian. Even then, when he was most zealous, had
any one proposed to him that he should inaugurate the new state
of things, and be the first to divide his fortune, the futility
of his theories would have struck him more plainly. Mingling in
good society, the influence of clever men and beautiful women