moments he had an irreflective courage, which prompted him to
utter what he thought without regard to anything but the common
civilities of life. His opinions might excite surprise; but they did
not give offence; for they seemed impersonal, the natural outcome of
honest and capable observation, with never a touch of national
prejudice or individual conceit. It was well, perhaps, for the young
man's natural modesty, that he did not hear certain remarks afterwards
exchanged between the more intelligent of his hearers.

When they passed to the drawing-room, the piano was sounding there. It
stopped; the player rose, and moved away, but not before Piers had seen
that it was Irene. He felt robbed of a delight. Oh, to hear Irene play!

Better was in store for him. With a boldness natural to the hour, he
drew nearer, nearer, watching his opportunity. The chair by Irene's
side became vacant; he stepped forward, and was met with a frank
countenance, which invited him to take the coveted place. Miss Derwent
spoke at once of her interest in the Russian sectaries with whom--she
had heard--Otway was well acquainted, the people called Dukhobortsi,
who held the carrying of arms a sin, and suffered persecution because
of their conscientious refusal to perform military service. Piers spoke
with enthusiasm of these people.

"They uphold the ideal above all necessary to our time. We ought to be
rapidly outgrowing warfare; isn't that the obvious next step in
civilisation? It seems a commonplace that everyone should look to that
end, and strive for it. Yet we're going back--there's a military
reaction--fighting is glorified by everyone who has a loud voice, and
in no country more than in England. I wish you could hear a Russian
friend of mine speak about it, a rich man who has just given up
everything to join the Dukhobortsi. I never knew before what religious
passion meant. And it seems to me that this is the world's only
hope--peace made a religion. The forms don't matter; only let the
supreme end be peace. It is what people have talked so much about--the
religion of the future."

His tones moved the listener, as appeared in her look and attitude.

"Surely all the best in every country lean to it," she said.

"Of course! That's our hope--but at the same time the pitiful thing;
for the best hold back, keep silence, as if their quiet contempt could
prevail against this activity of the reckless and the foolish."

"One can't _make_ a re