to be
found with _us_.'

'It hardly looks just now as if the upper class was to go on enjoying a
monopoly of them,' he said, smiling.

'Then appearances are deceptive. The populace supplies mass and
weight--nothing else. What _you_ want is to touch the leaders, the men
and women whose voices carry, and then your populace would follow hard
enough. For instance,'--and she dropped her aggressive tone and spoke
with a smiling kindness,--'come down next Saturday to my little Surrey
cottage; you shall see some of these men and women there, and I will
make you confess when you go away that you have profited your workmen
more by deserting them than by staying with them. Will you come?'

'My Sundays are too precious to me just now, Madame de Netteville.
Besides, my firm conviction is that the upper class can produce a Brook
Farm, but nothing more. The religious movement of the future will want a
vast effusion of feeling and passion to carry it into action, and
feeling and passion are only to be generated in sufficient volume among
the masses, where the vested interests of all kinds are less tremendous.
You upper-class folk have your part, of course. Woe betide you if you
shirk it--but----'

'Oh, let us leave it alone,' she said with a little shrug. 'I know you
would give us all the work and refuse us all the profits. We are to
starve for your workman, to give him our hearts and purses and
everything we have, not that we may hoodwink him--which might be worth
doing--but that he may rule us. It is too much!'

'Very well,' he said drily, his colour rising. 'Very well, let it be too
much.'

And, dropping his lounging attitude, he stood erect, and she saw that he
meant to be going. Her look swept over him from head to foot--over the
worn face with its look of sensitive refinement and spiritual force, the
active frame, the delicate but most characteristic hand. Never had any
man so attracted her for years; never had she found it so difficult to
gain a hold. Eugenie de Netteville, _poseuse_, schemer, woman of the
world that she was, was losing command of herself.

'What did you really mean by "worldliness" and the "world" in your
lecture last Sunday?' she asked him suddenly, with a little accent of
scorn. 'I thought your diatribes absurd. What you religious people call
the "world" is really only the average opinion of sensible people which
neither you nor your kind could do without for a day.'

He smiled, half amused by her p