ttle, we are none the wiser for that, about your
part of the world."

"I knew him in America. That is why I called."

"Yes?" The mother bent forward and regarded her curiously, attentively.

"He lived very near us. He did a great deal of good--among the poor."
She put her hand to her slender white throat, then dropped it again in
her lap. Then, looking in Lady Thryng's eyes, she said: "I have seen
your picture. I should have known you from that, but you are more
beautiful."

"Oh! That can hardly be, my dear! It was taken many years ago, you
know."

"Yes, he said so--his lordship--only there we called him Doctah Thryng."

A shadow flitted over the mother's face. "He was a practitioner over
there--never in England."

"That is a pity; it is such noble work. But perhaps he has other things
to do here."

"He has--even more noble work than the practice of medicine."

"What does he do here?" asked Cassandra, in a low voice.

"He must take part in the affairs of government. Very ordinary men may
study and practise medicine, but unless men who are wise, and are nobly
born and bred, make it their business to care for the affairs of their
country, the nation would soon be wrecked. That is what saves England
and makes her great."

"I see." Cassandra sat silent then, and Lady Thryng waited expectantly
for her errand to be declared, curious about this beautiful young
creature who had stepped into her home unannounced from out of the
unknown, yet graciously kindly and unhurried. "I think I know. With us
men are too careless. They think it isn't necessary, I suppose." Again
she paused with parted lips, as if she would speak on, but could not.

"With you, men are too busy making money, I am told. It is necessary to
have a leisure class like ours."

"Oh!" Cassandra caught her breath and smiled. She was thinking of the
silver pot her mother had enjoined her to take with her, and why. "But
we do think a great deal of family; even the simplest of us care for
that, although we have no leisure class--only the loafers. I'm afraid
you think it very strange I should come to you in this way, but
I--thought I would like to see Doctah Thryng again, and when I heard he
was not in England, I thought I would come to you and bring the messages
from those who loved him when he was with us. But I mustn't stop now and
take your time. I'll write them instead, only that wouldn't be like
seeing him. He stayed a whole year at our place."

"A