"Arnold," remarked Mr. Jacks, with good humour, "you are quite
incapable of understanding this question. We shall see. Mr.
Gladstone's Bill----"

"Mr. Gladstone's _little_ Bill--do say his _little_ Bill."

"Arnold, you are too absurd!" exclaimed the hostess mirthfully.

"What does your father think?" Mr. Jacks inquired of their guest.
"Has he broken silence on the subject?"

"I think not. He never says a word about politics."

"The little Bill hasn't a chance," cried Arnold. "Your majority is
melting away. You, of course, will stand by the old man, but that is
chivalry, not politics. You don't know what a picturesque figure you
make, sir; you help me to realise Horatius Codes, and that kind of
thing."

John Jacks laughed heartily at his own expense, but his wife seemed
to think the jest unmannerly. Home Rule did not in the least commend
itself to her sedate, practical mind, but she would never have
committed such an error in taste as to proclaim divergence from her
husband's views.

"It is a most difficult and complicated question," she said,
addressing herself to Otway. "The character of the people makes it
so; the Irish are so sentimental."

Upon the young man's ear this utterance fell strangely; it gave him