"But I'm not sure I shan't regret it. It isn't as if there were any
prospect of a real war. I'd like a fighting career well enough, but not
picayune affairs out in India or Africa. I can't help thinking I have a
talent for business. Sounds beastly conceited," he added hastily. It was
evident that he was a modest youth. "But after all one of us should inherit
something of the sort. Perhaps, later, who knows? At least I can thank
heaven that I wasn't born in my brother's place. He likes politics, and his
fate is the House of Lords. A man might as well go and embalm himself at
once. Do you know Gwynne? Elton Gwynne? John Gwynne he calls himself out
here."
"I've heard of him. He's been written up a good deal. I don't know any one
of that sort."
"Really? Well, don't you see? he inherited a peerage; grandfather died and
his cousin shot himself to cover up a scandal. Gwynne was in the full tide
of his career in the House of Commons and simply couldn't stand for it.
He cut the whole business and came out here where he and his mother had
a large estate--Lady Victoria's mother or grandmother was a
Spanish-Californian. Of course he chucked the title. He's a sort of cousin
of mine and I looked him up, and dined with him the other night. He was
born in the United States, by a fluke as it were, and has made up his mind
to be an American for the rest of his life and carve out a political
career in this country.
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