a great
effort. For a little while there was silence and then she went on, more
quietly:

"There, now you have it. That is why there can never be any truce
between Francis and myself. It is more than Francis--it is all the
things that he stands for, all the things that will soon make England a
rubbish heap for every dirty foreigner to dump his filth on to. Hate
him? Why, I'll fight him and all that he stands for so long as there's
breath in my body----"

"But Frank is with you," Christopher urged eagerly, "if you'll let him
be. He's only in need of your hand and back he'll come. He's waiting
there now--longing, in spite of his defiance, for a word. Give him it
and in the end I know as surely as I sit here that he'll be worth your
while----"

"What can he do for me?"

"Ah! He'll show you. After all, he is one of the family; he's miserable
there in his exile. He's got your own spirit--he'd die rather than own
to defeat--but he'll repay you if you have him."

He saw then, as she turned towards him, that he had done no good.

"Listen," she said, "I've heard you fairly. Let us leave this now, once
and for all. I tell you finally no word that God Almighty could speak on
this business could change me one atom. Francis Breton and I are foes
for all time. I hate not only himself and the miserable mess that he's
made of his life, I hate all this new generation that he stands for.

"I hate these new opinions, I hate this indulgence now towards
everything that any fool in the country may choose to think or say. In
my day we knew how to use the fools. Took advantage of their muddle, ran
the world on it. I loathe this tendency to make everyone as intelligent
as they can be! Why! in God's name! Give me two intelligent men and a
dozen fools and you'll get something done. Take a wastrel like Frank and
turn him out. Take muddlers like my family and keep 'em muddled. Richard
ran the country well enough for a time or two, and he's been a muddler
from his childhood.

"All this cry to educate the people, to be kind to thieves and
murderers! to help the fools--my God! If I still had my say--Whilst
there's breath in me I'll fight the lot of them."

She leant back in her chair, waited for breath, and then went on more
mildly:

"You may like all this noise and clamour, Doctor. You may like your Mrs.
Bronson and the rest--common, vulgar, brainless--ruling the world. Every
decent law that held society together is being broken and nob