ries
now," Roger continued. "Look at F. E. Robinson ... and he's only a
third-rater!"

Gilbert told a story of the early days of the Tory Party after the
General Election of 1900 when the Tories had been completely routed by
the Liberals. "The Tory remnant was as thick-headed as it could be," he
said, "and the Liberals were bursting with brains. Balfour came into the
House one night ... he'd just been re-elected ... and he sat down beside
Chamberlain. They were frightfully blue. Balfour had a look at the
Liberals, and then he turned to his own back-benches and had a look at
the Tories. Of course, it may not be true, but they say he went pale
with fright. He turned to Chamberlain and said, "My God, Joseph!" and
then Chamberlain turned and looked at the Tories and said, "My God,
Arthur!" You see, Chamberlain never noticed things until Balfour pointed
them out to him, and then he noticed them too much. They went out of the
House immediately afterwards and shook hands with each other, and
Chamberlain said 'Arthur, _we're_ the Opposition!' And so they were.
Poor Balfour was awfully lonely after Chamberlain crocked up. Not a soul
on his own side that was fit to talk to! It was easy enough for F. E.
Robinson to make a name in a crowd like that. And they loathe him, too.
He's such a bounder! But they need a fellow to heave mud, so they put up
with him. Roger's got more brains in his little finger than that fellow
has in his whole body. Haven't you, Roger?"

"People don't have brains in their little fingers," Roger answered.

"You should join the Tories, Roger," Ninian said. "There really isn't
much difference between them. My father was a Conservative, but my Uncle
Geoffrey was a Liberal. When father was in, uncle was out. It amounted
to the same thing in the end!..."

"But Roger ought to be a different sort of Tory!" Gilbert exclaimed.
"It's no good having all his brain if he's just going to peddle around
with the same old stuff...."

"I don't intend to do that," said Roger.

"Well, what do you intend to do?"

Ninian seized a cushion and put it behind his back.

"Let's have a good old argle-bargle," he said. "What do you say,
Quinny?"

Henry, who had not joined in the discussion, leant forward and smiled.
"Oh, I like listening to you," he answered. "You're all so sure of
yourselves!..."

Gilbert turned on him. "Well, aren't you sure of yourself?" he demanded.

"No, I'm not," Henry answered. "I never am!"

"That