or a thousand--your class shall be dragged down. And it
shall be done by power. We of the labor hosts have conned that word over
till our minds are all a-tingle with it. Power. It is a kingly word."

And so ended the night with the Philomaths.

CHAPTER VI

ADUMBRATIONS

It was about this time that the warnings of coming events began to fall
about us thick and fast. Ernest had already questioned father's policy
of having socialists and labor leaders at his house, and of openly
attending socialist meetings; and father had only laughed at him for
his pains. As for myself, I was learning much from this contact with the
working-class leaders and thinkers. I was seeing the other side of
the shield. I was delighted with the unselfishness and high idealism
I encountered, though I was appalled by the vast philosophic and
scientific literature of socialism that was opened up to me. I was
learning fast, but I learned not fast enough to realize then the peril
of our position.

There were warnings, but I did not heed them. For instance, Mrs.
Pertonwaithe and Mrs. Wickson exercised tremendous social power in
the university town, and from them emanated the sentiment that I was a
too-forward and self-assertive young woman with a mischievous penchant
for officiousness and interference in other persons' affairs. This
I thought no more than natural, considering the part I had played
in investigating the case of Jackson's arm. But the effect of such
a sentiment, enunciated by two such powerful social arbiters, I
underestimated.

True, I noticed a certain aloofness on the part of my general friends,
but this I ascribed to the disapproval that was prevalent in my circles
of my intended marriage with Ernest. It was not till some time afterward
that Ernest pointed out to me clearly that this general attitude of
my class was something more than spontaneous, that behind it were the
hidden springs of an organized conduct. "You have given shelter to an
enemy of your class," he said. "And not alone shelter, for you have
given your love, yourself. This is treason to your class. Think not that
you will escape being penalized."

But it was before this that father returned one afternoon. Ernest was
with me, and we could see that father was angry--philosophically angry.
He was rarely really angry; but a certain measure of controlled anger
he allowed himself. He called it a tonic. And we could see that he was
tonic-angry when he entered t