l; it exists; it is within reach of you. It is a definite
and immense organization; it may be young as yet, but it has courage and
splendid aims; and now, with a great work before it, it is eager for
aid. You yourself, when you see a child run over, or a woman starving of
hunger, or a blind man wanting to cross a street, are you not ready with
your help--the help of your hands or of your purse? Multiply these by
millions, and think of the cry for help that comes from all parts of the
world. If you but knew, you could not resist. I as yet know little--I
only hear the echo of the cry; but my veins are burning; I shall have
the gladness of answering 'Yes,' however little I can do. And after all,
is not that something? For a man to live only for himself is death."

"But you know, Evelyn," said his friend, though he did not quite know
what to answer to all this outburst, "you must be more cautious. Those
benevolent schemes are very noble and very captivating; but sometimes
they are in the hands of rather queer people. And besides, do you quite
know the limits of this big society? I thought you said something about
vindicating the oppressed. Does it include politics?"

"I do not question; I am content to obey," said Lord Evelyn.

"That is not English; unreasoning and blind obedience is mere folly."

"Perhaps so," said the other, somewhat absently; "but I suppose a man
accepts whatever satisfies the craving of his own heart. And--and I
should not like to go alone on this new thing, Brand. Will you not come
some little way with me? If you think I am mistaken, you may turn back;
as for me--well, if it were only a dream, I think I would rather go with
the pilgrims on their hopeless quest than stay with the people who come
out to wonder at them as they go by. You remember--

"'Who is your lady of love, oh ye that pass
Singing? And is it for sorrow of that which was
That ye sing sadly, or dream of what shall be?
For gladly at once and sadly it seems ye sing.
--Our lady of love by you is unbeholden;
For hands she hath none, nor eyes, nor lips, nor golden
Treasure of hair, nor face nor form; but we
That love, we know her more fair than anything.'"

Yes; he had certainly a pathetic thrill in his voice; but now there was
something else--something strange--in the slow and monotonous cadence
that caught the acute ear of his friend. And again he went on, but
absently, almost