go was
pathetic. His mother had died when he was still quite a child, but she
lived in his memory as beautiful and fascinating.
"She was half Irish," he said.
The major nodded. "So, partly from sentimental reasons, and partly
because there was no one better, I've left the property at Rudham to
you," he went on with a smile. "There would have been plenty of money
to have left with it; but I've made some very bad speculations lately,
and lost a great deal. I took to speculation from sheer want of
amusement. I was a good billiard player as long as I had the use of my
limbs; but here I've been, literally tied by the legs, for the last two
years. The only thing properly alive about me was my brain, and
speculation has interested me; but I was badly hit ten days ago. There
will be some money, but you won't be a rich man."
"I don't care about it," interposed Paul, eagerly.
"Then you ought to; a landlord poorly off is in a bad case in these
days; and I want things kept as they are, Paul. I've not lived at
Rudham, but I've kept my eye on it all the same; and what you call
progress, and its attendant abominations, has not hurt it much yet. I
made a mistake when I let the bishop nominate a successor to the living
when old Gregg died three years ago. Curzon's a go-ahead fellow, from
all that I hear; I don't want a go-ahead squire."
"I'm afraid you've made another mistake, and, if there's time, you had
better undo it," said Paul, gravely.
"Do I look like a man who can re-arrange all his matters?" asked the
Major, irritably. "After all, what I ask of you is no very hard thing
to grant; simply to accept the good the gods provide, and let well
alone."
"But that for me is an impossible condition," said Paul. "I cannot let
things alone if I feel that I can better them. I'm in no way fitted
for a country squire; I've been brought up on different lines from you,
and arrived at very different conclusions. I am grateful to you for
your thought of me, but I want to live my own life unfettered by any
conditions."
"And this is how you show your readiness to carry out any wish of
mine?" said the major, bitterly.
"I'm sorry; but I promised in the dark, not knowing that my principles
would be involved."
"I'm glad to hear you have any. May I ask what you call yourself? A
Lessing who is not a Conservative is not worthy of the name."
"I scarcely know what I am; but my friends call me a Socialist."
"Then in
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