"
"I remember, only a few nights ago," she reflected, "I was staying
at a country house--Lord Maltenby's, by the bye--Mr. Orden's
father. The Prime Minister was there and another Cabinet
Minister. They spoke of the Labour Party and its leaderless
state. They had no idea, of course, of the great Council which
was already secretly formed, but they were unanimous about the
necessity for a strong leader. Two people made the same remark,
almost with apprehension: `If ever Paul Fiske should materialise,
the problem would be solved!'"
Fenn assented without enthusiasm.
"After all, though," he reminded her, "a clever writer does not
always make a great speaker, nor has he always that personality
and distinction which is required in this case. He would come
amongst us a stranger, too--a stranger personally, that is to
say."
"Not in the broadest sense of the word," Catherine objected.
"Paul Fiske is more than an ordinary literary man. His heart is
in tune with what he writes. Those are not merely eloquent words
which he offers. There is a note of something above and beyond
just phrase-making--a note of sympathetic understanding which
amounts to genius."
Her companion stroked his moustache for a moment.
"Fiske goes right to the spot," he admitted, "but the question of
the leadership, so far as he is concerned, doesn't come into the
sphere of practical politics. It has been suggested, Miss
Abbeway, by one or two of the more influential delegates,
suggested, too, by a vast number of letters and telegrams which
have poured in upon us during the last few days, that I should be
elected to this vacant post.
Pages:
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133