ery
opportunity of claiming as their own. In the freezing snows of the
world's solitude, a prudent man does not try to make himself happy, but
he is less than a man if he allows others to make him wretched. The
flesh has its discomfort: the spirit, however, has its illimitable
conjectures. When all else fails me, I may still find solace in
conjectures. Does it strike you that they may have, nevertheless, a
danger also?"

"This is your own way of asking me whether I know my own mind! If you
mean, Have I put all sentiment resolutely from my thoughts, Yes. If you
mean, Have I determined to continue in my present line till I have a
call to some other vocation, Yes."

His heart was troubled, full of vague combinations. The events of the
day had seemed mechanical, foolish--a course of sorrowful attempting and
self-reproach.

"Both of your affirmatives are satisfactory," said Disraeli; "you are, I
see, what the Americans call a 'whole-hog man.' Now let us consider ways
and means. I saw Prince d'Alchingen this afternoon. He announces the
increased distress and reformation of Parflete. We must therefore
prepare for further villainy. Mrs. Parflete has confided to d'Alchingen
her desire to go on the stage. He encourages this ambition, and she has
accepted his invitation to Hadley Lodge, where she will recite in his
private _salle de comedie_."

Robert, though much taken by surprise, betrayed no sign of it.

"You cannot tell what she will do--until she does it," he answered. "She
may have great talents."

"Well, one forgets that when Voltaire said, '_Il faut cultiver notre
jardin_,' he was quoting, with sardonic irony, Saint Teresa! You cannot
be pleased at Mrs. Parflete's decision. The theatre in England is a
sport--not an art. In France it is an art, but," he added drily, "it
embraces more than one profession."

"Whether a woman be a saint, a queen, or an actress--once before the
public--she is exposed to severe discipline. And I don't fear for this
one. She will take her revenge on life by laughing at it."

"I daresay. D'Alchingen calls her _un peu etourdi_. She has the
audacity--she may have the fortune of despair. Confess--you have run a
little wild about her."

"I ran off the track, if you like," said Orange, smiling.

"Women fascinate the hearts, but they do not affect the destinies of
determined men," returned Disraeli. "If you have not won anything by
this affair, it would be hard to say what winning is. There