e of constant emotional excitement by that time, and it
was only a night or two after that she quarreled with her grandfather.
There had been a dinner party, a heavy, pompous affair, largely
attended, for although spring was well advanced, the usual May hegira to
the country or the coast had not yet commenced. Industrial conditions
in and around the city were too disturbed for the large employers to
get away, and following Lent there had been a sort of sporadic gayety,
covering a vast uneasiness. There was to be no polo after all.

Lily, doing her best to make the dinner a success, found herself
contrasting it with the gatherings at the Doyle house, and found it very
dull. These men, with their rigidity of mind, invited because they held
her grandfather's opinions, or because they kept their own convictions
to themselves, seemed to her of a bygone time. She did not see in them a
safe counterpoise to a people which in its reaction from the old order,
was ready to swing to anything that was new. She saw only a dozen or
so elderly gentlemen, immaculate and prosperous, peering through their
glasses after a world which had passed them by.

They were very grave that night. The situation was serious. The talk
turned inevitably to the approaching strike, and from that to a possible
attempt on the part of the radical element toward violence. The older
men pooh-poohed that, but the younger ones were uncertain. Isolated
riotings, yes. But a coordinated attempt against the city, no. Labour
was greedy, but it was law-abiding. Ah, but it was being fired by
incendiary literature. Then what were the police doing? They were
doing everything. They were doing nothing. The governor was secretly a
radical. Nonsense. The governor was saying little, but was waiting and
watching. A general strike was only another word for revolution. No. It
would be attempted, perhaps, but only to demonstrate the solidarity of
labor.

After a time Lily made a discovery. She found that even into that
carefully selected gathering had crept a surprising spirit, based on the
necessity for concession; a few men who shared her father's convictions,
and went even further. One or two, even, who, cautiously for fear of old
Anthony's ears, voiced a belief that before long invested money would
be given a fixed return, all surplus profits to be divided among the
workers, the owners and the government.

"What about the lean years?" some one asked.

The government's sh