ually referred to his country as a democratic power, a champion of
democracy--but did not at present suspect the meaning of the word; nor,
to say truth, was it likely they ever would. Nothing, however, made him
more miserable than indecision. And so, now that he was on the point
of deciding, and the decision promised vigorous consequences, he felt
almost elated. Closing his jaws once more too firmly, this time on lamb,
he bit his tongue again. It was impossible to confess what he had done,
for two of his children were there, expected to eat with that well-bred
detachment which precludes such happenings; and he rose from dinner with
his mind made up. Instead of going back to the House of Commons, he went
straight to a strike-breaking agency. No grass should grow under the
feet of his decision! Thence he sought the one post-office still open,
despatched a long telegram to his agent, another to the chief constable
of Worcestershire; and, feeling he had done all he could for the moment,
returned to the 'House,' where they were debating the rural housing
question. He sat there, paying only moderate attention to a subject on
which he was acknowledged an authority. To-morrow, in all probability,
the papers would have got hold of the affair! How he loathed people
poking their noses into his concerns! And suddenly he was assailed,
very deep down, by a feeling with which in his firmness he had not
reckoned--a sort of remorse that he was going to let a lot of loafing
blackguards down onto his land, to toss about his grass, and swill their
beastly beer above it. And all the real love he had for his fields and
coverts, all the fastidiousness of an English gentleman, and, to do
him justice, the qualms of a conscience telling him that he owed better
things than this to those born on his estate, assaulted him in force.
He sat back in his seat, driving his long legs hard against the pew in
front. His thick, wavy, still brown hair was beautifully parted above
the square brow that frowned over deep-set eyes and a perfectly straight
nose. Now and again he bit into a side of his straw-colored moustache,
or raised a hand and twisted the other side. Without doubt one of the
handsomest and perhaps the most Norman-looking man in the whole 'House.'
There was a feeling among those round him that he was thinking deeply.
And so he was. But he had decided, and he was not a man who went back on
his decisions.

Morning brought even worse sensations. Th