fe, and come to waste yourself
here?"

"Why, don't you think it's very nice in Florence?" she asked, with eyes
of innocent interest.

"Nice! Nice! Do we live for what is nice? Is it enough that you have what
you Americans call a nice time?"

Clementina reflected. "I wasn't doing much of anything at home, and I
thought I might as well come with Mrs. Lander, if she wanted me so much."
She thought in a certain way, that he was meddling with what was not his
affair, but she believed that he was sincere in his zeal for the ideal
life he wished her to lead, and there were some things she had heard
about him that made her pity and respect him; his self-exile and his
renunciation of home and country for his principles, whatever they were;
she did not understand exactly. She would not have liked never being able
to go back to Middlemount, or to be cut off from all her friends as this
poor young Nihilist was, and she said, now, "I didn't expect that it was
going to be anything but a visit, and I always supposed we should go back
in the spring; but now Mrs. Lander is beginning to think she won't be
well enough till fall."

"And why need you stay with her?"

"Because she's not very well," answered Clementina, and she smiled, a
little triumphantly as well as tolerantly.

"She could hire nurses and doctors, all she wants with her money."

"I don't believe it would be the same thing, exactly, and what should I
do if I went back?"

"Do? Teach! Uplift the lives about you."

"But you say it is better for people to live simply, and not read and
think so much."

"Then labor in the fields with them."

Clementina laughed outright. "I guess if anyone saw me wo'king in the
fields they would think I was a disgrace to the neighbahood."

Belsky gave her a stupified glare through his spectacles. "I cannot
undertand you Americans."

"Well, you must come ova to America, then, Mr. Belsky"--he had asked her
not to call him by his title--"and then you would."

"No, I could not endure the disappointment. You have the great
opportunity of the earth. You could be equal and just, and simple and
kind. There is nothing to hinder you. But all you try to do is to get
more and more money."

"Now, that isn't faia, Mr. Belsky, and you know it."

Well, then, you joke, joke--always joke. Like that Mr. Hinkle. He wants
to make money with his patent of a gleaner, that will take the last grain
of wheat from the poor, and he wants to joke--joke!'