“You are the only man I know who doesn't insist on talking,” she said. “There are times when--”
“When there is nothing to say,” he suggested.
She laughed softly. He tried to remember the sound of it afterwards, when he rehearsed this phase of the conversation, but couldn't.
“It's because you like the hills, isn't it?” she asked. “You seem such an out-of-door person, and Mr. Jenney said you were always wandering about the country-side.”
“Mr. Jenney also made other reflections about my youth,” said Austen.
She laughed again, acquiescing in his humour, secretly thankful not to find him sentimental.
“Mr. Jenney said something else that--that I wanted to ask you about,” she went on, breathing more deeply. “It was about the railroad.”
“I am afraid you have not come to an authority,” he replied.
“You said the politicians would be against you if you tried to become a State senator. Do you believe that the politicians are owned by the railroad?”
“Has Jenney been putting such things into your head?”
“Not only Mr. Jenney, but--I have heard other people say that. And Humphrey Crewe said that you hadn't a chance politically, because you had opposed the railroad and had gone against your own interests.”
Austen was amazed at this new exhibition of courage on her part, though he was sorely pressed.
“Humphrey Crewe isn't much of an authority, either,” he said briefly.
“Then you won't tell me?” said Victoria. “Oh, Mr. Vane,” she cried, with sudden vehemence, “if such things are going on here, I'm sure my father doesn't know about them. This is only one State, and the railroad runs through so many. He can't know everything, and I have heard him say that he wasn't responsible for what the politicians did in his name. If they are bad, why don't you go to him and tell him so? I'm sure he'd listen to you.”
“I'm sure he'd think me a presumptuous idiot,” said Austen. “Politicians are not idealists anywhere--the very word has become a term of reproach. Undoubtedly your father desires to set things right as much as any one else--probably more than any one.”
“Oh, I know he does,” exclaimed Victoria.
“If politics are not all that they should be,” he went on, somewhat grimly, with an unpleasant feeling of hypocrisy, “we must remember that they are nobody's fault in particular, and can't be set right in an instant by any one man, no matter how powerful.”