“What he means no man save himself can even surmise,” Borrowdean answered.  “He told me that he had had information of a state of distress in some of our Northern towns—­Newcastle and Hull he mentioned, and some of the Lancashire places—­which had simply appalled him.  He was determined to verify it personally, and to commit himself to nothing further until he had done so.  And he even asked me if I could not find him a pair until the end of the session, so that he could get away at once.  I was simply dumbfounded.  A pair for Mannering!”

Berenice rose to her feet.  She walked up and down the little room restlessly.

“Sir Leslie,” she said at last, “I am not sure whether I have what you would call any influence over Mr. Mannering now or not.  I might have had but for you!”

“For me?” Borrowdean exclaimed.

“Yes.  It was you who told me of—­of—­that woman,” she said, haughtily, but with the colour rising almost to her temples.  “After that, of course things were different between us.  We are scarcely upon such terms at present as would justify my interference.”

Borrowdean dropped his eyeglass, and swung it deliberately by its black ribbon.  He looked steadily at Berenice, but his eyes seemed to travel past her.

“My dear Duchess,” he said, quietly, “the game of life is a great one to play, and we who would keep our hands upon the board must of necessity make sacrifices.  It is your duty to disregard in this instance your feelings towards Mannering.  You must consider only his feelings towards you.  They are such, I believe, as to give you a hold over him.  You must make use of that hold for the sake of a great cause.”

Berenice raised her eyebrows.

“Indeed!  You seem to forget, Sir Leslie, that my share in this game, as you call it, must always be a passive one.  I have no office to gain, no rewards to reap.  Why should I commit myself to an unpleasant task for the sake of you and your friends?”

“It is your party,” he protested.  “Your party as much as ours.”

“Granted,” she answered.  “Yet who are the responsible members of it?  You know my opinion of Mannering as a politician.  I would sooner follow him blindfold than all the others with my eyes open.  Whatever he may lack, he is the most honest and right-seeing politician who ever entered the House.”

“He lacks but one thing,” Borrowdean said, “the mechanical adjustment of the born politician to party matters.  There was never a time when absolute unity and absolute force were so necessary.  If he is going to play the intelligent inquirer, if he falters for one moment in his wholesale condemnation of this scheme, he loses the day for himself and for us.  The one thing which the political public never forgives is the man who stops to think.”

“What do you want me to do?” Berenice asked.