ts from that of
the personality of certain politicians to the conduct of the war and
the disturbing problem raised by the "conscientious objector"; little
by little, however, the rest of us became silent, to listen to a debate
which had begun between the labour leader and the ship-builder on the
"labour question." It is not my purpose here to record what they said.
Needless to add that they did not wholly agree, but they were much
nearer to agreement than one would have thought possible. What was
interesting was the open-mindedness with which, on both sides, the
argument was conducted, and the fact that it could seriously take place
then and there. For the subject of it had long been the supreme problem
in the lives of both these men, their feelings concerning it must at
times have been tinged with bitterness, yet they spoke with courtesy and
restraint, and though each maintained his contentions he was quick to
acknowledge a point made by the other. As one listened one was led
to hope that a happier day is perhaps at hand when such things as
"complexes" and convictions will disappear.

The types of these two were in striking contrast. The labour leader was
stocky, chestnut-coloured, vital, possessing the bulldog quality of
the British self-made man combined with a natural wit, sharpened in the
arena, that often startled the company into an appreciative laughter.
The ship-builder, on the other hand, was one of those spare and hard
Englishmen whom no amount of business cares will induce to neglect
the exercise of his body, the obligation at all times to keep "fit";
square-rigged, as it were, with a lean face and a wide moustache
accentuating a square chin. Occasionally a gleam of humour, a ray of
idealism, lighted his practical grey eyes. Each of these two had managed
rather marvellously to triumph over early training by self-education:
the labour leader, who had had his first lessons in life from injustices
and hard knocks; and the ship-builder, who had overcome the handicap of
the public-school tradition and of Manchester economics.

"Yes, titles and fortunes must go," remarked our hostess with a smile as
she rose from the table and led the way out on the sunny, stone-flagged
terrace. Below us was a wide parterre whose flower-beds, laid out by a
celebrated landscape-gardener in the days of the Stuarts, were filled
with vegetables. The day was like our New England Indian summerthough
the trees were still heavy with leav