"I should have thought," he said, "that William Glazzard might have
had views that way. He's a man with no ties and, I should say, too
much leisure."
"Oh," exclaimed Mrs. Liversedge, "the idea of his getting up to make
speeches! It always seems to me as if he found it a trouble even to
talk. His brother would be far more likely, wouldn't he, Denzil?"
"What, Eustace Glazzard?" replied Quarrier. "He regards Parliament
and everything connected with it with supreme contempt. Suggest the
thing when he comes this evening, and watch his face."
"What is he doing?" Mr. Liversedge asked.
"Collecting pictures, playing the fiddle, gazing at sunflowers, and
so on. He'll never do anything else."
"How contradictory you are in speaking about him!" said his sister.
"One time you seem to admire and like him extremely, and another"
----
"Why, so I do. A capital fellow! He's weak, that's all. I don't mean
weak in the worst way, you know; a more honourable and trustworthy
man doesn't live. But--well, he's rather womanish, I suppose."
Mrs. Liversedge laughed.
"Many thanks! It's always so pleasing to a woman to hear that
comparison. Do you mean he reminds you of Mrs. Wade?"
The boy Tom, who had been attentive, broke into merriment.
"Uncle Denzil wouldn't dare to have said it in _her_ presence!" he
cried.
"Perhaps not," conceded Denzil, with a smile.
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