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I've done it, my boy.
You can come back for all this pow-wow afterwards." He gave the
diplomatic service as a second choice. "There you are," he said,
"first-rate social position, nothing to do, theatres, operas, pretty
women, colour, life. The best of good times. Barring Washington,
that is. But Washington, they say, isn't as bad as it used to be--
since Teddy has Europeanized 'em. . . ."
Even the Reverend Harold Benham took a subdued but thoughtful share
in his son's admonition. He came up to the flat--due precautions
were taken to prevent a painful encounter--he lunched at his son's
new club, and he was visibly oppressed by the contrast between the
young man's youthful fortunes and his own. As visibly he bore up
bravely. "There are few men, Poff, who would not envy you your
opportunities," he said. "You have the Feast of Life spread out at
your feet. . . . I hope you have had yourself put up for the
Athenaeum. They say it takes years. When I was a young man--and
ambitious--I thought that some day I might belong to the
Athenaeum.


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