“To see his court suit stolen,” Advena finished for him.  “As Disraeli said—­wasn’t it Disraeli?” She heard, and hated the note of constraint in her voice.  “Am I reduced,” she thought, indignantly, “to falsetto?” and chose, since she must choose, the betrayal of silence.

“It did one good to hear the question discussed on the higher level,” said Lorne.  “You would think, to read the papers, that all its merits could be put into dollars and cents.”

“I’ve noticed some of them in terms of sentiment—­affection for the mother country—­”

“Yes, that’s lugged in.  But it doesn’t cover the moral aspect,” Lorne returned.  “It’s too easy and obvious, as well; it gives the enemy cause to offend.”

“Well, there’s a tremendous moral aspect,” Finlay said, “tremendous moral potentialities hidden in the issue.  England has more to lose than she dreams.”

“That’s just where I felt, as a practical politician, a little restless while you were preaching,” said Lorne, laughing.  “You seemed to think the advantage of imperialism was all with England.  You mustn’t press that view on us, you know.  We shall get harder to bargain with.  Besides, from the point of your sermon, it’s all the other way.”

“Oh, I don’t agree!  The younger nations can work out their own salvation unaided; but can England alone?  Isn’t she too heavily weighted?”

“Oh, materially, very likely!  But morally, no,” said Lorne, stoutly.  “There, if you like, she has accumulations that won’t depreciate.  Money isn’t the only capital the colonies offer investment for.”

“I’m afraid I see it in the shadow of the degeneration of age and poverty,” said Finlay, smiling—­“or age and wealth, if you prefer it.”

“And we in the disadvantage of youth and easy success,” Lorne retorted.  “We’re all very well, but we’re not the men our fathers were:  we need a lot of licking into shape.  Look at that disgraceful business of ours in the Ontario legislature the other day, and look at that fellow of yours walking out of office at Westminster last session because of a disastrous business connection which he was morally as clear of as you or I!  I tell you we’ve got to hang on to the things that make us ashamed; and I guess we’ve got sense enough to know it.  But this is my corner.  I am going to look in at the Milburns’, Advena.  Good night, Mr Finlay.”

Advena, walking on with Finlay, became suddenly aware that he had not once addressed her.  She had the quick impression that Lorne left him bereft of a refuge; his plight heartened her.

“If the politicians on both sides were only as mutually appreciative,” she said, “the Empire would soon be knit.”

For a moment he did not answer.  “I am afraid the economic situation is not quite analogous,” he said, stiffly and absently, when the moment had passed.

“Why does your brother always call me ‘Mr’ Finlay?” he demanded presently.  “It isn’t friendly.”