and, and pull
it through. And not in Mellor only. One might be the ruler, the
regenerator of half a county!"

Memory brought to mind in vivid sequence the figures and incidents of
the afternoon, of her village round with Mary Harden.

"_As the eyes of servants towards the hand of their mistress_"--the old
words occurred to her as she thought of herself stepping in and out of
the cottages. Then she was ashamed of herself and rejected the image
with vehemence. Dependence was the curse of the poor. Her whole aim, of
course, should be to teach them to stand on their own feet, to know
themselves as men. But naturally they would be grateful, they would let
themselves be led. Intelligence and enthusiasm give power, and ought to
give it--power for good. No doubt, under Socialism, there will be less
scope for either, because there will be less need. But Socialism, as a
system, will not come in our generation. What we have to think for is
the transition period. The Cravens had never seen that, but Marcella saw
it. She began to feel herself a person of larger experience than they.

As she undressed, it seemed to her as though she still felt the clinging
hands of the Hurd children round her knees, and through them, symbolised
by them, the suppliant touch of hundreds of other helpless creatures.

She was just dropping to sleep when her own words to Aldous Raeburn
flashed across her,--

"Everybody is so ready to take charge of other people's lives, and look
at the result!"

She must needs laugh at herself, but it made little matter. She fell
asleep cradled in dreams. Aldous Raeburn's final part in them was not
great!

CHAPTER VIII.

Mrs. Boyce wrote her note to Miss Raeburn, a note containing cold though
civil excuses as to herself, while accepting the invitation for
Marcella, who should be sent to the Court, either in the carriage or
under the escort of a maid who could bring her back. Marcella found her
mother inclined to insist punctiliously on conventions of this kind. It
amused her, in submitting to them, to remember the free and easy ways of
her London life. But she submitted--and not unwillingly.

On the afternoon of the day which intervened between the Maxwells' call
and her introduction to the Court, Marcella walked as usual down to the
village. She was teeming with plans for her new kingdom, and could not
keep herself out of it. And an entry in one of the local papers had
suggested to her that Hurd might