or talent."

"Then, last of all, the Autocrats--the Beaminsters, the Gutterils, the
Ministers. I'm using Autocrat in its broadest sense, but that's just
what they are. You _must_ have your quarterings, and you must look down
on those who haven't. But, more than that, everything must be preserved,
and continual ceremonies, dignities, chastities, restraints, pomps, and
circumstances. Above all, no one must be admitted within the company who
is not of the noblest, the stupidest, the narrowest.

"The Beaminsters are the bodyguard of this little army, and the Duchess
is their general. There, behind her shut doors, she keeps it all going;
an American like Mrs. Bronson, a democrat like George Lent, she spoils
their games here, there, everywhere. So far all has been well. But at
last there are enemies within her gates--that girl, Breton. Now, at
last, for the first time in her life, she must look out."

He paused. They had reached Portland Place. To right and left of them
the broad road was golden in the sun--dark trees guarded one end of it,
bronzed roofs the other.

Two carriages stood like sentinels at the upper end.

Brun raised his hand as though he would invoke the spirit of it. "There,
Arkwright, there's your subject. The Duchess, tiny, indomitable,
brooding over this place. This square of London round the Circus, your
prostituted street, this splendour, Harley Street, Morris Square with
its respectability, Ferris Street with its boarding-houses, over them
all the Duchess is ruling. There's not one of them, I dare fancy, that
is not conscious of her existence, not one of them that will not see
life differently when she is gone. Meanwhile, she'll fight for her
Autocrats to the last breath, and she's got a battle in front of her
that will take her all her time. And when she goes the Autocrats will go
with her, the Beaminsters as Beaminsters will be done for; life here
round the Circus will never be the same again. There's a new city
rising, Arkwright, and the new citizens may forget, the Aristocrats may
compromise with the Democrats, but they'll turn out the Autocrats. A lot
of good things will go with them--good old things--but a lot of fine new
things will come in."

As they passed out of Portland Place the wooden-legged crossing-sweeper
touched his hat to them.

"Will _he_ come in?" said Arkwright, laughing.

"Perhaps," said Brun gravely.

Arkwright shook his head. "You can talk, Brun, you can say a lot. But