Conversation flagged, and all except the baron were relieved when
Sybil, at Schneidekoupon's request, sat down at the piano to sing
what she called a hymn. So soon as the song was over, Ratcliffe,
who seemed to have been curiously thrown off his balance by
Jacobi's harangue, pleaded urgent duties at his rooms, and retired.
The others soon afterwards went off in a body, leaving only
Carrington and Gore, who had seated himself by Madeleine, and
was at once dragged by her into a discussion of the subject which
perplexed her, and for the moment threw over her mind a net of
irresistible fascination.

"The baron discomfited the senator," said Gore, with a certain
hesitation.

"Why did Ratcliffe let himself be trampled upon in that manner?"

"I wish you would explain why," replied Mrs. Lee; "tell me, Mr.
Gore--you who represent cultivation and literary taste
hereabouts--please tell me what to think about Baron Jacobi's
speech. Who and what is to be believed? Mr.

Ratcliffe seems honest and wise. Is he a corruptionist? He believes
in the people, or says he does. Is he telling the truth or not?"

Gore was too experienced in politics to be caught in such a trap as
this. He evaded the question. "Mr. Ratcliffe has a practical piece of
work to do; his business is to make laws and advise the President;
he does it extremely well. We have no other equally good practical
politician; it is unfair to require him to be a crusader besides."