k, d--d
ugly, I must say; look after the character of their tenants; give 'em
rebate of rent if there's a bad harvest; encourage stock-breedin', and
machinery--they've got some of my ploughs, but the people don't like
'em, and, as a matter of fact, they're right--they're not made for these
small fields; set an example goin' to church; patronize the Rifle Range;
buy up the pubs when they can, and run 'em themselves; send out jelly,
and let people over their place on bank holidays. Dash it all, I don't
know what they don't do. Why?"

"Are they liked?"

"Liked? No, I should hardly think they were liked; respected, and all
that. Malloring's a steady fellow, keen man on housing, and a gentleman;
she's a bit too much perhaps on the pious side. They've got one of the
finest Georgian houses in the country. Altogether they're what you call
'model.'"

"But not human."

Stanley slightly lowered the Review and looked across it at his brother.
It was evident to him that 'old Felix' was in one of his free-thinking
moods.

"They're domestic," he said, "and fond of their children, and pleasant
neighbors. I don't deny that they've got a tremendous sense of duty, but
we want that in these days."

"Duty to what?"

Stanley raised his level eyebrows. It was a stumper. Without great care
he felt that he would be getting over the border into the uncharted land
of speculation and philosophy, wandering on paths that led him nowhere.

"If you lived in the country, old man," he said, "you wouldn't ask that
sort of question."

"You don't imagine," said Felix, "that you or the Mallorings live in
the country? Why, you landlords are every bit as much town dwellers as
I am--thought, habit, dress, faith, souls, all town stuff. There IS no
'country' in England now for us of the 'upper classes.' It's gone. I
repeat: Duty to what?"

And, rising, he went over to the window, looking out at the moonlit
lawn, overcome by a sudden aversion from more talk. Of what use were
words from a mind tuned in one key to a mind tuned in another? And yet,
so ingrained was his habit of discussion, that he promptly went on:

"The Mallorings, I've not the slightest doubt, believe it their duty
to look after the morals of those who live on their property. There are
three things to be said about that: One--you can't make people moral
by adopting the attitude of the schoolmaster. Two--it implies that
they consider themselves more moral than their neighbors. Three-