man, and a gentleman."
Romanoff laughed.
"As well Rasputin as the others," he replied.
"What others?"
"The priests of the Holy Orthodox Church. Let me give you a bit of advice, Faversham; keep clear of all this religious rot. It's true that you in England pretend to be more advanced than the poor Russians, but at bottom there's no difference. Wherever religion creeps in, it's the same story. Religion means credulity, and credulity means lies, oppression, cant, corruption."
"Did you meet Rasputin?"
"Oh yes," replied Romanoff, with a sigh of resignation. "On the whole, I admired him."
"I say, that's a bit too thick."
"Anyhow, the fellow was interesting. He had a philosophy of his own. He recognised the fact that the world was populated by fools, and he determined to make the most of his chances. He interpreted religion in a way that would give the greatest possible gratification to his senses. His policy was to suck the orange of the world dry. 'Salvation through sin,' eh?" and Romanoff laughed as he spoke. "Well, it's about the most sensible religion I ever heard of."
"It seems to me devilish and dirty," Dick spoke warmly.
"Nonsense, my dear fellow. Of course, all religion is foolishness – that is, religion as is usually understood. But if there is to be a religion at all, Rasputin got hold of the true one."
"You don't mean that?"
Romanoff looked at Dick steadily for a few seconds. He seemed to be thinking deeply as though he were trying to understand his man.
"Perhaps I don't," he admitted presently. "Sometimes one exaggerates in order to convey what is actually true. Still, there is a substratum of truth in the dirty monk's philosophy, as you'll find out before you are much older. By the way, the evening has turned cold, hasn't it?"
"Do you find it so? The air of a night is often cold in the early summer. Have you finished? Then we'll go into my little den where I always have a fire of an evening."
A few minutes later Romanoff was sprawling in a large easy-chair with his feet close to the fire.
"How long have you been here?" he asked.
"Not quite a month."
"Been well received by your neighbours?"
"On the whole, yes."
Again Romanoff looked steadily at his companion. "Will you forgive me if I ask you a few questions?"
"Certainly. Go ahead."
"First, then, how do you like being a rich man?"
Dick glanced around the room, and then gave a look towards the wide-spreading park-lands.
"How can one help liking it?" he asked.
"Exactly. You do not find money to be the root of all evil, then?"
"Heavens, no!"
"You would not like to be a poor man again?"
"What in the world are you driving at? Of course, the very thought of it is horrible."
"Just so. I am in my way a student of human nature, and I was a bit curious. Now for a second question. Who is she?"
"Oh, I say."
"Of course she exists."
"How do you know?"
"In my way I have the power of divination. When I look at a man I know something, not much perhaps, but something of his hopes. I felt sure before I spoke that you were in love. You've been quick about it, my young friend."
"I don't know that I am in love."
"Of course you are. Who is she?"
"There's no one. At least not yet. I don't suppose she's given me a second's thought."
"But you do. Is she young, beautiful? Is she rich, well connected?"
"Young! beautiful!" laughed Dick.
"Ah, I see. Not a rustic beauty, by any chance?"
"Rustic beauty, eh? There's nothing rustic about Lady Blanche Huntingford."
"Huntingford! That's one of the best known names in England."
"Do you know it?"
"Who doesn't? It's the biggest name in Debrett. But the Huntingfords are as poor as church mice."
"What does that matter?"
"You have enough for both, eh? Of course, that's your hope."
"Why?" and Dick turned rather sharply on his interlocutor.
"Oh, nothing personal, my friend. I'm only speaking from a long experience. The Huntingfords are poor and proud. I do not know of a more unpleasant combination. I've heard of Lady Blanche – she is about twenty-four, a great beauty, and so far has not succeeded in the marriage market. She's had several seasons in London, but the rich aristocrat has not turned up. That's why she may smile on a commoner – a newcomer – providing he's rich enough."
"If you'd seen her, spoken with her, you would not talk like that."
"Shouldn't I? Who knows? But it's nothing to worry about, my dear fellow. All talk about the love of women goes for nothing. It doesn't exist. Of course, there is such a thing as sexual attraction, but nothing else."
"You are a terrible cynic, Romanoff."
"I'm a citizen of the world, and I've gone around the world with my eyes open. But, as I said, you can have an easy mind. The ball is at your feet, my dear fellow. Whatever you want you can have."
"Do be serious." Dick spoke lightly; all the same, he felt uneasy.
"I am serious," replied Romanoff. "With wealth like yours, you are master of the world; you can get all the world has to give."
"I wish I could."
"I tell you you can. Money is all-powerful. Just think, if you were poor, not a hope, not an ambition could be realised."
"That won't do. Hosts of poor fellows have – "
"Risen to position and power. Just so; but it's been a terrible struggle, a ghastly grind. In most cases, too, men don't get money until they are too old to enjoy it. But you are young, and the world's at your feet. Do you want titles? You can buy them. Power? fame? Again you can get them. Beautiful women? Love? Yes, even love of a sort you can buy, if you have money. Poverty is hell; but what heaven there is in this world can be bought."
"Then you think the poor can't be happy?"
"Let me be careful in answering that. If a man has no ambitions, if he has no desire for power, then, in a negative way, he may be happy although he's poor. But to you, who are ambitious through and through – you, who see visions and dream dreams – poverty would be hell. That's why I congratulate you on all this. And my advice to you is, make the most of it. Live to enjoy, my dear fellow. Whatever
