the froth of society--no less than on those below.'

He had laid down his half-finished cigar, and, having begun in a
scrupulously moderate tone, insensibly warmed to the idealist
fervour. His face became more mobile, his eyes gave forth all their
light, his voice was musically modulated as he proceeded in his
demonstration. He addressed himself to Annabel, perhaps unconscious
of doing so exclusively.

Mr. Newthorpe muttered something of assent. Paula was listening
intently, but as one who hears of strange, far-off things, very
difficult of realisation.

'Now suppose one took a handful of such typical men,' Egremont went
on, 'and tried to inspire them with a moral ideal. At present they
have nothing of the kind, but they own the instincts of decency, and
that is much. I would make use of the tendency to association, which
is so strong among them. They have numberless benefit clubs; they
stand together resolutely to help each other in time of need and to
exact terms from their employers--the fair fight, as the worthy
Member for Vauxhall calls it. Well, why shouldn't they band for
moral and intellectual purposes? I would have a sort of freemasonry,
which had nothing to do with eating and drinking, or with the
dispensing of charity; it should be wholly concerned with spiritual
advancement. These men cannot become rich, and so are free from one
kind of danger; they are not likely to fall into privation; they
have a certain amount of leisure. If one could only stir a few of
them to enthusiasm for an ideal of life! Suppose one could teach
them to feel the purpose of such a book as "Sesame and Lilies,"
which you only moderately care for, Miss Newthorpe--'