“Oh, politically!”

“Am I to suppose you care nothing for politics?  To such men, to men who think as you think, who are to sit on the same benches with yourself, and go into the same lobby and be seen at the same club, it is your duty to be civil both for your own sake and for that of the cause.  It is for the hermits of society to indulge in personal dislikings,—­for men who have never been active and never mean to be active.  I had been telling Mr. Kennedy how much I thought of you,—­as a good Liberal.”

“And I came in and spoilt it all.”

“Yes, you did.  You knocked down my little house, and I must build it all up again.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Lady Laura.”

“I shall.  It will be a great deal of trouble,—­a great deal, indeed; but I shall take it.  I mean you to be very intimate with Mr. Kennedy, and to shoot his grouse, and to stalk his deer, and to help to keep him in progress as a liberal member of Parliament.  I am quite prepared to admit, as a friend, that he would go back without some such help.”

“Oh;—­I understand.”

“I do not believe that you do understand at all, but I must endeavour to make you do so by degrees.  If you are to be my political pupil, you must at any rate be obedient.  The next time you meet Mr. Kennedy, ask him his opinion instead of telling him your own.  He has been in Parliament twelve years, and he was a good deal older than you when he began.”  At this moment a side door was opened, and the red-haired, red-bearded man whom Phineas had seen before entered the room.  He hesitated a moment, as though he were going to retreat again, and then began to pull about the books and toys which lay on one of the distant tables, as though he were in quest of some article.  And he would have retreated had not Lady Laura called to him.

“Oswald,” she said, “let me introduce you to Mr. Finn.  Mr. Finn, I do not think you have ever met my brother, Lord Chiltern.”  Then the two young men bowed, and each of them muttered something.  “Do not be in a hurry, Oswald.  You have nothing special to take you away.  Here is Mr. Finn come to tell us who are all the possible new Prime Ministers.  He is uncivil enough not to have named papa.”

“My father is out of the question,” said Lord Chiltern.

“Of course he is,” said Lady Laura, “but I may be allowed my little joke.”

“I suppose he will at any rate be in the Cabinet,” said Phineas.

“I know nothing whatever about politics,” said Lord Chiltern.

“I wish you did,” said his sister,—­“with all my heart.”

“I never did,—­and I never shall, for all your wishing.  It’s the meanest trade going I think, and I’m sure it’s the most dishonest.  They talk of legs on the turf, and of course there are legs; but what are they to the legs in the House?  I don’t know whether you are in Parliament, Mr. Finn.”

“Yes, I am; but do not mind me.”