e the man with money in
his pockets to make it worth their while. These two are the only leaders
they understand. And if that's true here in England, in times of peace,
among our own people, how much truer must it be of our soldiers, away
from England, in a time of war?"

"But, mamma," the Hon. Winifred intervened, "don't you see how badly
that might work nowadays? now that the good families have so little
money, and all the fortunes are in the hands of stockjobbing people--and
so on? It would be THEIR sons who would buy all the commissions--and I'm
sure Balder wouldn't get on at all with that lot."

Lady Plowden answered with decision and great promptness. "You see so
little of the world, Winnie dear, that you don't get very clear ideas of
its movements. The people who make fortunes in England are every whit
as important to its welfare as those who inherit names, and individually
I'm sure they are often much more deserving. Every generation sniffs
at its nouveaux riches, but by the next they have become merged in the
aristocracy. It isn't a new thing in England at all. It has always been
that way. Two-thirds of the peerage have their start from a wealthy
merchant, or some other person who made a fortune. They are really the
back-bone of England. You should keep that always in mind."

"Of course--I see what you mean"--Winnie replied, her dark cheek
flushing faintly under the tacit reproof. She had passed her
twenty-fifth birthday, but her voice had in it the docile
self-repression of a school-girl. She spoke with diffident slowness,
her gaze fastened upon her plate. "Of course--my grandfather was
a lawyer--and your point is that merchants--and others who make
fortunes--would be the same."

"Precisely," said Lady Plowden. "And do tell us, Mr. Thorpe"--she turned
toward where he sat at her right and beamed at him over her spectacles,
with the air of having been wearied with a conversation in which he
bore no part--"is it really true that social discontent is becoming more
marked in America, even, than it is with us in England?"

"I'm not an American, you know," he reminded her. "I only know one or
two sections of the country--and those only as a stranger. You should
ask Miss Madden."

"Me?" said Celia. "Oh, I haven't come up for my examinations yet. I'm
like Balder--I'm preparing."

"What I should like Mr. Thorpe to tell us," suggested Lady Cressage,
mildly, "is about the flowers in the tropics--in Java, for examp