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Updated: May 27, 2025
He would much have preferred waiting until Borrowdean had concluded his call.
Borrowdean struck a match, and Lord Redford looked thoughtfully out of the window across the park. "I was always afraid of this," Borrowdean said, gloomily. "There is a leaven of madness in the man." Lord Redford shrugged his shoulders. "Genius or madness," he remarked. "We may yet see him a modern Rienzi carried into power on the shoulders of the people. Such a man might become anything.
He has some idea of making me the stepping-stone to his advancement. I have a place just now in his scheme of life. But as for friendship! Borrowdean does not know the meaning of the word." "You speak bitterly," she remarked. "I know the man," he answered. "Will you tell me," she asked, "what it is that he wants of you?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Is this worth discussing between us?" he asked.
"For the rest, it has been very pleasant to see you again, and I only wish that you could spare us a few more days." Borrowdean shook his head. "We are better apart just now, Mannering," he said, "for I tell you frankly that I do not understand your present attitude towards life your entire absence of all sense of moral responsibility.
There was room there now for the writing of tragedy. Borrowdean, still outwardly suave, was inwardly cursing the unlucky chance which had blown the telegram her way. "Might I suggest," he said, in a low tone, "that we postpone our conversation till after breakfast time? The waiters seem to be favouring us with a great deal of attention, and several of them understand English."
"Clara will look after me," Mannering interrupted, smiling. "Try to make an enthusiast of him, Mrs. Handsell. He needs a hobby badly." They started off. She leaned back in her seat and pulled her veil down. "Do not talk to me here," she said. "We shall have a quarter of an hour before they can arrive." Borrowdean assented silently. He was glad of the respite, for he wanted to think.
"Mannering," he said, "I did not come here to simper cheap philosophies with you like a couple of schoolgirls. I have a real live errand. I want to speak to you of great things." Mannering moved a little uneasily. He had a very shrewd idea as to the nature of that errand. "Of great things," he repeated slowly. "Are you in earnest, Borrowdean?" "Why not?"
A Certain Personage thinks very highly of him indeed. Told some one that Mr. Mannering was the most statesman-like politician in the service of his country. I believe he'd sooner see Mannering Prime Minister than any one." "But he has no following," Borrowdean objected. "I think," Berenice said, slowly, "that he keeps as far aloof as possible for one reason, and one reason only.
Mannering, who had been pacing the room, stopped short. He grasped the back of a chair, and turning round faced Borrowdean. "Well?" "You know what place the Duchess has held in the councils of our party since the Duke's death," Borrowdean continued. "She has the political instinct. If she were a man she would be a leader.
"Then if that is so," she said, "I cannot imagine why we live down here, hundreds of miles away from everywhere. Why did he give it up? Why is he not in Parliament now?" "It is to ask him that question, Miss Mannering," Borrowdean said, "that I am here. No wonder it seems surprising to you. It is surprising to all of us." She looked at him eagerly.
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