‘That too.’ It would have been simpler to ignore her oh-so-genteel goading but he was sick of the lot of them.

‘Oh, do tell.’ And before he could say anything more Henrietta called down the table to his father. ‘William, dear, I fear we might have a rebel in the ranks,’ she said with a tinkling laugh. ‘Alexander is up in arms – is that the right expression for an officer? – about our conversation tonight.’

Alexander saw his mother shoot Henrietta a glance that made him think it might be a while before the Conways were invited to one of her dinner parties again, as his father said, ‘Really? Well, I always think some healthy disagreement is a good thing and I’m pleased to say my son has always had a mind of his own, Henrietta, as I think you know,’ he’d added pointedly.

The matter might have finished there, but for Lord Rockingham – who had an innate belief that he was always right – interposing. Fixing Alexander with a frown, he said, ‘And what may I ask have you taken objection to, young Alex?’

It was for all the world as though he was a child having an unwelcome tantrum in the company of his betters. Ignoring his mother’s imploring look, Alexander smiled coolly. ‘No objection taken as such, Lord Rockingham,’ he said easily, ‘merely healthy disagreement as my father suggested. I remember Lloyd George’s speech when he said that four spectres haunt the poor – old age, accident, sickness and unemployment – and that he intends to exorcise them. I applaud that, and the tax package laid down in the People’s Budget. It’s radical, yes, but necessary. A new supertax of sixpence in the pound levied on the ten thousand or so people with incomes over five thousand pounds isn’t unreasonable, nor are the other changes. The Tories’ condemnation that the budget is attacking the propertied classes is misguided. This is not an attack, it’s a means of social reform, as is the talk about state pensions and unemployment insurance in the future. It means we are coming out of the Dark Ages.’

‘The Dark Ages?’ Lord Rockingham had got redder in the face the more Alexander had spoken.

‘You don’t think we are still existing in the Dark Ages when by accident of birth thousands of children are born into conditions you wouldn’t dream of keeping your horses in? Mr Wynford spoke about his miners living like rats. Does a man of your intelligence really believe they choose to live in dilapidated hovels and spend their existence working underground with the risk of accidents and explosions like the one which killed nearly three hundred and fifty men and boys in Lancashire before Christmas? They do it so that their families can eat, and even then they have to live hand to mouth in impossible conditions.’