tistic natures, failed reformers, knaves and fools incompetent or
over-old, broken evangelists and debauchees, inebriates, criminals,
cowards, virtual slaves' ... Anyhow it's a home for Lost Hopes. (Do you
see that?) My uncle is keen on anyone who tries to revolt against
anything--governments, Russians, proprieties, or anything else--and
Felicity is keen on anyone who fails."

"And your other cousin--what is she keen on?"

"Oh, Lucy's too young for the Oddities, like me. She and I sit in a
corner and look on. It's my uncle and Felicity they like to talk to. They
talk about Liberty to them, you know. My uncle is great on Liberty. And
they give them lemon in their tea, and say how wicked Russians are, and
how stupid Royal Academicians are, and buy the Armenians' embroidery,
and so forth. Lucy and I don't do that well. I disapprove of liberty for
most people, I think, and certainly for them; and I don't like lemon in
my tea, and though I'm sure Russians are wicked, I believe oppressed
Poles are as bad--at least their hair is as bushy and their nails as
long--and I prefer the embroidery I do myself; I do it quite nicely, I
think. And I don't consider that Celtic poets or Armenian Christians wash
their hands often enough.... They nearly all asked me the time last
Sunday. I was sorry about it."

"You feared they were finding their afternoon tedious?"

"No; but I think their watches were up the spout, you see. So I was
sorry. I never feel so sorry for myself as when mine is. I'm really
awfully grateful to Leslie; if it wasn't for him I should never be able
to tell anyone the time. By the way, Leslie's awfully fond of Felicity.
He writes her enormous cheques for her clubs and vagabonds and so on. But
of course she'll never look at him; he's much too well-off. It's not low
to tell you that, because he makes it so awfully obvious. He'll probably
be there this afternoon. Oh, here we are."

They found the Hopes' small drawing-room filled much as Peter had
predicted. Dermot Hope was a tall, wasted-looking man of fifty-five, with
brilliant eyes giving significance to a vague face. He had very little
money, and spent that little on "Progress," whose readers were few and
ardent, and whose contributors were very cosmopolitan, and full of zeal
and fire; several of them were here this afternoon. Dermot Hope himself
was most unconquerably full of fire. He could be delightful, and
exceedingly disagreeable, full of genial sympathy and ap