resented."

"And the solution?"

"Perhaps a new party. Or better still, a liberalizing of the
Republican."

"Before long," said Lily suddenly, "there will be no state. There will
be enough for everybody, and nobody will have too much."

Howard smiled at her indulgently.

"How do you expect to accomplish this ideal condition?"

"That's the difficulty about it," said Lily, thoughtfully. "It means a
revolution. It would be peaceful, though. The thing to do is to convince
people that it is simple justice, and then they will divide what they
have."

"Why, Lily!" Grace's voice was anxious. "That's Socialism."

But Howard only smiled tolerantly, and changed the subject. Every
one had these attacks of idealism in youth. They were the exaggerated
altruism of adolescence; a part of its dreams and aspirations. He
changed the subject.

"I like the boy," he said to Grace, later, over the cribbage board in
the morning room. "He has character, and a queer sort of magnetism. It
mightn't be a bad thing--"

Grace was counting.

"I forgot to tell you; I think she refused Pink Denslow the other day."

"I rather gathered, from the way she spoke of young Cameron, that she
isn't interested there either."

"Not a bit," said Grace, complacently. "You needn't worry about him."

Howard smiled. He was often conscious that after all the years of their
common life, his wife's mind and his traveled along parallel lines that
never met.

Willy Cameron was extremely happy. He had brought his pipe along,
although without much hope, but the moment they were settled by the
library fire Lily had suggested it.

"You know you can't talk unless you have it in your hand to wave
around," she said. "And I want to know such a lot of things. Where you
live, and all that."

"I live in a boarding house. More house than board, really. And the
work's all right. I'm going to study metallurgy some day. There are
night courses at the college, only I haven't many nights."

He had lighted his pipe, and kept his eyes on it mostly, or on the fire.
He was afraid to look at Lily, because there was something he could not
keep out of his eyes, but must keep from her. It had been both better
and worse than he had anticipated, seeing her in her home. Lily herself
had not changed. She was her wonderful self, in spite of her frock and
her surroundings. But the house, her people, with their ease of wealth
and position, Grace's slight condescension, the elaborat