t civility preserved between man and man without such idle form? Why
not, then, between man and woman? Unable, as yet, to go the entire
length of his principles in every-day life, he endeavoured, at all
events, to cultivate in his intercourse with women a frankness of
speech, a directness of bearing, beyond the usual. He shook hands as
with one of his own sex, spine uncrooked; he greeted them with level
voice, not as one who addresses a thing afraid of sound. To a girl or
matron whom he liked, he said, in tone if not in phrase, "Let us be
comrades." In his opinion this tended notably to the purifying of the
social atmosphere. It was the introduction of simple honesty into
relations commonly marked--and corrupted--by every form of
disingenuousness. Moreover, it was the great first step to that
reconstruction of society at large which every thinker saw to be
imperative and imminent.

But Constance Bride knew nothing of this, and in her ignorance could
not but misinterpret the young man's demeanor. She felt it to be
brusque; she imagined it to imply a purposed oblivion of things in the
past. Taken together with Mrs. Lashmar's way of receiving her at the
vicarage, it stirred in her heart and mind (already prone to
bitterness) a resentment which, of all things, she shrank from
betraying.

"Is Lady Ogram approachable?" Dyce asked, when his companion had walked
a few paces without speaking. "Does she care to make new acquaintances?"

"It depends. She likes to know interesting people."

"Well"--Dyce murmured a laugh--"perhaps she might think me interesting,
in a way. Her subject is mine. I'm working at sociology; have been for
a long time. I'm getting my ideas into shape, and I like to talk about
them."

"Do you write?" asked the girl, without raising her eyes to his.

"No. People write too much; we're flooded with print. I've grown out of
my old ambitions that way. The Greek philosophers taught by word of
mouth, and it was better. I want to learn how to talk--to talk well--to
communicate what I have to say in a few plain words. It saves time and
money; I'm convinced, too, that it carries more weight. Everyone
nowadays can write a book, and most people do; but how many can talk?
The art is being utterly forgotten. Chatter and gabble and mumble--an
abuse of language. What's your view?"

"I think perhaps you are right."

"Come, now, I'm glad to hear you say that. If I had time, I would tell
you more; but here's the stat