sn't looking quite up to the mark,' said Mr. Tyrrell, as he
stood before the fire, hands in pockets.

'I thought the same,' said his wife. 'He seems worried. What a
deplorable thing it is, to think that he will spend large sums of money
on this library scheme!'

Mr. Tyrrell made inarticulate noises, and at length laughed.

'He must amuse himself in his own way.'

'But after all, papa,' said Paula, whose advocacy went much by the rule
of contraries, 'it must be a good thing to give people books to read. I
dare say it prevents them from going to the public-house.'

'Shouldn't wonder if it does, Paula,' he replied, with a benevolent
gaze.

'Then what's your objection?'

'I don't object to the library in particular. It's only that Egremont
isn't the man to do these kind of things. It is to be hoped that he'll
get tired of it, and find something more in his line.'

'What _is_ his line?'

'Ah, that's the question! Very likely he hasn't one at all. It seems to
me there's a good many young fellows in that case nowadays. They have
education, they have money, and they don't know what the deuce to do
with either one or the other. They're a cut above you, Mr. Jack; it
isn't enough for them to live and enjoy themselves. So they get it into
their heads that they're called upon to reform the world--a nice handy
little job, that'll keep them going. The girls, I notice, are beginning
to have the same craze. I shouldn't wonder if Paula gets an idea that
she'll be a hospital-nurse, or go district-visiting in Bethnal Green.'

'I certainly should if I thought it would amuse me,' said Paula. 'But
why shouldn't Mr. Egremont do work of this kind? He's in earnest; he
doesn't only do it for fun.'

'Of course he's in earnest, and there's the absurdity of it. Social
reform, pooh! Why, who are the real social reformers? The men who don't
care a scrap for the people, but take up ideas because they can make
capital out of them. It isn't idealists who do the work of the world,
but the hard-headed, practical, selfish men. A big employer of labour
'll do more good in a day, just because he sees profit 'll come of it,
than all the mooning philanthropists in a hundred years. Nothing solid
has ever been gained in this world that wasn't pursued out of
self-interest. Look at Dalmaine. How much do you think he cares for the
factory-hands he's always talking about? But he'll do them many a good
turn; he'll make many a life easier; and just because