’Everybody knows your father;—­every Englishman I mean.  Of course I know your father,—­as a public man, and I know how much the country owes to him.’

’Yes it does.  But it is not that I mean.  If you knew who this would,—­would,—­break his heart.’  Then came a tear into the young man’s eye,—­and there was something almost like a tear in the eye of the old man too.  ’Of course it was my fault.  I got him to come.  He hadn’t the slightest intention of staying.  I think you will believe what I say about that, sir.’

‘I believe every word you say, my Lord.’

’I got into a row at Oxford.  I daresay you heard.  There never was anything so stupid.  That was a great grief to my father,—­a very great grief.  It is so hard upon him because he never did anything foolish himself.’

‘You should try to imitate him,’ Silverbridge shook his head.  ’Or at least not to grieve him.’

’That is it.  He has got over the affair about me.  As I’m the eldest son I’ve got into Parliament, and he thinks perhaps that all has been forgotten.  An eldest son may, I fancy, be a greater ass than his younger brother.’  The Master could not but smile as he thought of the selection which had been made of a legislator.  ’But if Gerald is sent down, I don’t know how he will get over it.’  And now the tears absolutely rolled down the young man’s face, so that he was forced to wipe them from his eyes.

The Master was much moved.  That a young man should pray for himself would be nothing to him.  The discipline of the college was not in his hands, and such prayers would avail nothing with him.  Nor would a brother praying simply for a brother avail much.  A father asking for his son might be resisted.  But the brother asking pardon for the brother on behalf of the father was almost irresistible.  But this man had long been in a position in which he knew that no such prayers should ever prevail at all.  In the first place it was not his business.  If he did anything, it would only be by asking a favour when he knew that no favour should be granted;—­and a favour which he of all men should not ask, because to him of all men it could not be refused.  And then the very altitude of the great Statesman whom he was invited to befriend,—­ the position of this Duke who had been so powerful and might be powerful again, was against any such interference.  Of himself he might be sure that he would certainly done this as readily for any Mr Jones as for the Duke of Omnium; but were he to do it, it would be said of him that it had been done because the benevolence would seem to be self-seeking.  ‘Your father, if he were here,’ said he, ‘would know that I could not interfere.’

‘And will he be sent down?’

’I do not know all the circumstances.  From your own showing the case seems to be one of great insubordination.  To tell the truth, Lord Silverbridge, I ought not to have spoken to you on the subject at all.’