ches. Countess, here is the man who
counts all equal under the sun, who decries class, and recognises no
social distinctions. Brott was born to lead a revolution. He is our
natural enemy. Let us all try to convert him."

Brott was pale, and deep new lines were furrowed on his face.
Nevertheless he smiled faintly as he bowed over Lucille's fingers.

"My introduction," he remarked, "is scarcely reassuring. Yet here at
least, if anywhere in the world, we should all meet upon equal ground.
Music is a universal leveler."

"And we haven't a chance," Lady Carey remarked with uplifted eyebrows,
"of listening to a bar of it."

Lucille welcomed the newcomer coldly. Nevertheless, he manoeuvred
himself into the place by her side. She took up her fan and commenced
swinging it thoughtfully.

"You are surprised to see me here?" he murmured.

"Yes!" she admitted.

He looked wearily away from the stage up into her face.

"And I too," he said. "I am surprised to find myself here!"

"I pictured you," she remarked, "as immersed in affairs. Did I not hear
something of a Radical ministry with you for Premier?"

"It has been spoken of," he admitted.

"Then I really cannot see," she said, "what you are doing here."

"Why not?" he asked doggedly.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"In the first place," she said, "you ought to be rushing about amongst
your supporters, keeping them up to the mark, and all that sort of
thing. And in the second--"

"Well?"

"Are we not the very people against whom you have declared war?"

"I have declared war against no people," he answered. "It is systems and
classes, abuses, injustice against which I have been forced to speak.
I would not deprive your Order of a single privilege to which they are
justly entitled. But you must remember that I am a people's man. Their
cause is mine. They look to me as their mouthpiece."

Lucille shrugged her shoulders.

"You cannot evade the point," she said. "If you are the, what do you
call it, the mouthpiece of the people, I do not see how you can be
anything else than the enemy of the aristocracy."

"The aristocracy? Who are they?" he asked. "I am the enemy of all those
who, because they possess an ancient name and inherited wealth, consider
themselves the God-appointed bullies of the poor, dealing them out
meagre charities, lordly patronage, an unspoken but bitter contempt. But
the aristocracy of the earth are not of such as these. Your class are
furnishin