His grandmother
had cherished the conviction that he was an undeveloped genius; but
in regard to what particular field his genius was to enrich, she had
never clearly expressed herself, and his own consciousness had not
been more explicit. He had long ago made up his mind, indeed, that
his grandmother's convictions had been the fond delusions of a doting
parent, and that the sooner he unburdened himself of that particular
legacy the better. The unburdening, however, had been accomplished
with a good deal of bitterness, for he was very ambitious and very
proud, and to be obliged to digest the fact that he was but a type of
the great majority was distinctly galling. True, politics were left.
His father, one of the most distinguished of England's statesmen, and
a member of the present cabinet, would have been delighted to assist
his career; but Harold disliked politics. With the exception of his
passing interest in the Russian socialists--an interest springing from
his adventurous nature--he had never troubled himself about any party,
faction, or policy, home or foreign.
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