act one should think first. As for taking opinions at second-hand, that

is a thing you should never dare to do. If you are not able to think for yourself, you should have no opinions. Your English Clifford has told you that if you have no time to think you have no time to believe.'

'I am sure you are right. But I am sure, too, that to think for one's self means in most circles social ostracism; and it wants very strong convictions to make one face that.'

'Social ostracism,' answered the Socialist, with unutterable contempt in the gesture which accompanied his words; 'social ostracism, and by whom imposed? Look at the people around you.' Clare glanced nervously at Mrs Quaid. 'See how small are their aims, how trivial their interests, how great their love of ease, how small their love of truth; see what narrow minds they have, what blinded eyes; see all the good that would be in them crushed out by the very conventionalities which they uphold. How can we think it of any value, the opinion of such as these? Or if their condemnation should pain us, what a little thing is such a pain compared with the lifelong consciousness of having, from the fear of it, crushed out the spark of truth in our own souls? What a little thing compared with eternal truth is even life itself! We come out of the darkness, and into that darkness must return. Is it not better, seeing the little time that is ours, to know that we at least have listened to the wail of agony that ever goes up to the deaf heavens?--that we have done what we could in our little day to help forward a better time for those who shall come after us, than to know that we have had the good opinion of "respectable people"?'

'If one could only hope that one could help it forward!' sighed Clare.

'Hope? We know it. These things will be. It is a question of the little sooner or the little later. There is no standing still. He that is not with us is against us. But we shall triumph in the end. We know that all this misery, all this sin, all this selfishness, all this stupidity even, are the direct result of the social _milieu_. It is this knowledge that makes us the deadly enemies of the Capitalist system, and that is why we are hated by those who profit by it.'

He spoke in a low voice, full of suppressed excitement. When he ended the girl drew a long breath. He saw the white violets on her bosom rise and fall slowly twice before he spoke again. Then he said, with a smile,--

'If I have not given you advice, I have at least given you a sermon. You see I already look upon you as one of us, or I should not have dared to outrage conventionalities by speaking in earnest in a drawing-room.'

'Oh, my _dear_ Mr Petrovitch,' exclaimed Mrs Quaid, who pausing out of breath from her exertions in the cause of education, had caught the last dozen words, 'you are really _too_ severe! I hope all of _us_, at anyrate, always speak in earnest, though of course, some of us are more earnest than others. That _delightful_ Count Litvinoff, now--so devoted, and yet so cheerful; I'm so sorry he has not come to-night.'

'He seems to be a universal favourite,' answered Petrovitch, who had risen on his hostess's approach, and now stood with his hand on the back of Clare's chair.

'Yes, and you who know him, of course know how well he deserves all our good opinions.' She glanced almost imperceptibly at Clare. Petrovitch noted the glance, and he fancied that Clare noted it too, and that it called up a faint blush into her face. But Mrs Quaid's drawing-room was discreetly lighted, and perhaps he was mistaken.

'I should never forgive myself,' the good lady went on, 'if I missed this beautiful opportunity of performing such a delightful task--bringing two such distinguished fellow-workers together. We must fix an early evening for you both to dine here. It will be charming.'

Petrovitch bowed.

As Hirsch and Petrovitch went away together, the Austrian said,--

'So, the lady who is always charmed will charm herself with making you meet him, _bon grè, mal grè_.'

'I will meet him,' the other answered, 'and that shortly. But not in that house.'

'Good,' grunted Hirsch; and the two men fell to smoking silently.