She rose to her feet, and walked restlessly up and down the room.  Mannering had the look of a crushed man.  She watched him critically.  Writers in magazines and reviews had often made a study of his character.  She remembered a brilliant contributor to a recent review, who had dwelt upon a certain lack of cohesion in his constitution, an inability to relegate sentiment to its proper place in dealing with the great workaday problems of the world.  Conscientious, but never to be trusted, was the last anomalous but luminous criticism.  Was this frame of mind of his a sign of it, she wondered?  His place in politics was fixed and sure.  What right had he, as a man of principle, with a great following, to run even the risk of being led away by false prophets?  A certain hardness stole into her face as she watched him.  She tried to steel herself against the sight of his suffering, and though she was not wholly successful, there was a distinct change in her tone and attitude towards him as she resumed her seat.

“Tell me,” she asked, “what this means from a practical point of view?  How will it effect your plans?”

“I must give up my public meetings,” he answered, slowly.  “I have written to Manningham to tell him that he must get some one else to lead the campaign.”

Berenice was very pale.  So many of these wonderful dreams of hers seemed vanishing into thin air.

“This is a terrible blow,” she said.  “It is the worst thing which has happened to us for years.  Are you going over to the other side, Lawrence?”

He shook his head.

“I can’t do that altogether,” he said.  “The position is simply this:  I am still, so far as my judgment and research go, opposed to tariff reform.  On the other hand, I dare not take any leading part in fighting any scheme which has the barest chance of bringing better times to the working classes.  I simply stand apart for the moment on this question.”

She laughed a little bitterly.

“There is no other question,” she said.  “You will never be allowed to remain neutral.  You appear to me to be in a very singular position.  You are divided between sentiment and conviction, and you prefer to yield to the former.  Lawrence, do not be hasty!  Think of all that depends upon your judgment in this matter.  From the very first you have been the bitterest and most formidable opponent of this absurd scheme.  If you turn round you will unsettle public opinion throughout the country.  Remember, the power of the statesman is almost a sacred charge.”

“I am remembering,” he murmured, “those children.  I am bound to think this matter out, Berenice.  I am going to meet Graham and Mellors next week.  I shall not rest until I have made some effort to put my hand upon the weak spot.  Somewhere there is a rotten place.  I want to reach it.”

“Do you mean to give up your seat?” she asked.

“Not unless I am asked to,” he answered.  “I may need to work from there.”