by making children understand from the beginning what is meant by
citizenship. When every child grows up in the knowledge that neither
can the State exist without him, nor he without the State--that no
individual can live for himself alone--that every demand one makes upon
one's fellow men carries with it a reciprocal obligation--in other
words, when the principle of association, of solidarity, becomes a part
of the very conscience, we shall see a true State and a really
progressive civilisation.

"I could point out to you the scientific (biological and zoological)
facts which support this view, but very likely your own knowledge will
supply them."

He paused to smile. That was a deft touch. Constance, he knew, took
pride in her scientific studies.

"We shall talk all this over together, I hope. Enough at present to
show you where I stand. Is this attitude likely to recommend itself to
Lady Ogram? Do you think she would care to hear more about it? Write as
soon as you have time, and let me know your opinion."

On re-reading his letter, Dyce was troubled by only one reflection. He
had committed himself to a definite theory, and, should it jar with
Lady Ogram's way of thinking, there would probably be little use in his
going down to Hollingford. Might he not have left the matter vague? Was
it not enough to describe himself as a student of sociology? In which
case--

He did not follow out the argument. Neither did he care to dwell upon
the fact that the views he had been summarising were all taken straight
from a book which he had just read. He had thoroughly adopted them;
they exactly suited his temper and his mind--always premising that he
spoke as one of those called by his author _L'Elite_, and by no means
as one of _la Foule_. Indeed, he was beginning to forget that he was
not himself the originator of the bio-sociological theory of
civilisation.

Economy being henceforth imposed upon him, he lunched at home on a chop
and a glass of ale. In the early afternoon, not knowing exactly how to
spend his time, he walked towards the busy streets, and at length
entered his club. In the library sat only one man, sunk in an easy
chair, busied with a book. It was Lord Dymchurch; at Lashmar's
approach, he looked up, smiled, and rose to take the offered hand.

"I disturb you," said Dyce.

"There's no denying it," was the pleasant answer, "but I am quite ready
to be disturbed. You know this, of course?"

He showed Spen