Those of them who know anything at all about the Irish
question are dead set against Ireland--simply because they are
unimaginative and ungenerous; they can't sympathize with what seems
a hopeless cause, and Ireland to them only suggests the dirty Irish
of Polterham back streets. As for European war, the idiots are fond
of drums and fifes and military swagger; they haven't brains enough
to picture a battle-field."
"You are severe, Mrs. Wade. I should never have ventured"----
"You are still afraid of telling _me_ the truth!"
"Well, let us rejoice in the exceptions. Yourself, Lilian, my sister
Mary, for instance."
The widow let her eyes fall and kept silence.
"We hope you will dine with us on Friday of next week," said Denzil.
"Lilian posted you an invitation this morning. There will be a good
many people."
"Seriously then, I am to work for you, openly and vigorously?"
"What a contemptible fellow I should be if I wished you to hold
aloof!" He spoke sincerely, having overcome his misgivings of a
short time ago. "The fight will be fought on large questions, you
know. I want to win, but I have made up my mind to win honestly;
it's a fortunate thing that I probably sha'n't be called upon to
declare my views on a thousand side-issues."
"Don't be so sure of that. Polterham is paltry, even amid national
excitement.
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