"He speaks to the people of this country," said Baron.

"He did; but his voice--the voice, I mean, of his prestige--is
scarcely audible now."

"They're still proud of some of the things he did at the Foreign
Office--the famous 'exchange' with Spain, in the Mediterranean, which
took Europe so by surprise and by which she felt injured, especially
when it became apparent how much we had the best of the bargain.
Then the sudden, unexpected show of force by which he imposed on the
United States our interpretation of that tiresome treaty--I could
never make out what it was about. These were both matters that no
one really cared a straw about, but he made every one feel as if they
cared; the nation rose to the way he played his trumps--it was
uncommon. He was one of the few men we've had, in our period, who
took Europe, or took America, by surprise, made them jump a bit; and
the country liked his doing it--it was a pleasant change. The rest
of the world considered that they knew in any case exactly what we
would do, which was usually nothing at all. Say what you like, he's
still a high name; partly also, no doubt, on account of other things
his early success and early death, his political 'cheek' and wit; his
very appearance--he certainly was handsome--and the possibilities (of
future personal supremacy) which it was the fashion at the time,
which it's the fashion still, to say had passed away with him. He
had been twice at the Foreign Office; that alone was remarkable for a
man dying at forty-four. What therefore will the country think when
it learns he was venal?"

Peter Baron himself was not angry with Sir Dominick Ferrand, who had
simply become to him (he had been "reading up" feverishly for a week)