A shadowy smile had touched Loder’s lips as the idea formed itself.

Then would come the inevitable recall; then in earnest he might venture to put his hand to the plough.  He never indulged in day-dreams, but something in the nature of a vision had flashed over his mind in that instant.  He had seen himself standing in that same building, seen the rows of faces first bored, then hesitatingly transformed under his personal domination, under the one great power he knew himself to possess—­the power of eloquence.  The strength of the suggestion had been almost painful.  Men who have attained self-repression are occasionally open to a perilous onrush of feeling.  Believing that they know themselves, they walk boldly forward towards the high-road and the pitfall alike.

These had been Loder’s disconnected ideas and speculations on the first day of his new life.  At four o’clock on the ninth day he was pacing with quiet confidence up and down Chilcote’s study, his mind pleasantly busy and his cigar comfortably alight, when he paused in, his walk and frowned, interrupted by the entrance of a servant.

The man came softly into the room, drew a small table towards the fire, and proceeded to lay an extremely fine and unserviceable-looking cloth.

Loder watched him in silence.  He had grown to find silence a very useful commodity.  To wait and let things develop was the attitude he oftenest assumed.  But on this occasion he was perplexed.  He had not rung for tea, and in any case a cup on a salver satisfied his wants.  He looked critically at the fragile cloth.

Presently the servant departed, and solemnly reentered carrying a silver tray, with cups, a teapot, and cakes.  Having adjusted them to his satisfaction, he turned to Loder.

“Mrs. Chilcote will be with you in five minutes, sir,” he said.

He waited for some response, but Loder gave none.  Again he had found the advantages of silence, but this time it was silence of a compulsory kind.  He had nothing to say.

The man, finding him irresponsive, retired; and, left to himself, Loder stared at the array of feminine trifles; then, turning abruptly, he moved to the centre of the room.

Since the day they had talked on the Terrace, he had only seen Eve thrice, and always in the presence e others.  Since the night of his first coming, she has not invaded his domain, and he wondered what this new departure might mean.

His thought of her had been less vivid in the last few days; for, though still using steady discretion, he had been drawn gradually nearer the fascinating whirlpool of new interests and new work.  Shut his eyes as he might, there was no denying that this moment, so personally vital to him, was politically vital to the whole country; and that by a curious coincidence Chilcote’s position well-nigh forced him to take an active interest in the situation.  Again and again the suggestion had arisen that—­should the smouldering fire in Persia break into a flame, Chilcote’s commercial interests would facilitate, would practically compel, his standing in in the campaign against the government.