more self-confidence to become a real power in public life--a
genuine orator, such, perhaps, as England has never had."

"Nor ever will have," Arnold interrupted. "We act instead of
talking."

"My dear boy," said his father weightily, "we talk very much, and
very badly; in pulpit, and Parliament, and press, We want the man
who has something new to say, and knows how to say it. For my own
part, I don't think, when he comes, that he will glorify explosives.
I want to hear someone talk about Peace--and _not_ from the
commercial point of view. The slaughterers shan't have it all their
own way, Arnold; civilisation will be too strong for them, and if
Old England doesn't lead in that direction, it will be her shame to
the end of history."

Arnold smiled, but kept silence. Mrs. Jacks looked and murmured her
approval.

"I wish Hannaford could hear you," said Piers Otway.

When they rose from the table, John Jacks invited the young man to
come with him into his study for a little private talk.

"I haven't many books here," he said, noticing Otway's glance at the
shelves. "My library is down in Yorkshire, at the old home; where I
shall be very glad indeed to see you, whenever you come north in
vacation-time. Well now, let us make friends; tell me something
about yourself. You are reading for the Civil Service, I
understand?"