icture; it
remained in Lois's memory for ever. Mrs. Wishart sat on an opposite
sofa knitting; not a long blue stocking, like her dear grandmother, but
a web of wonderful hues, thick and soft, and various as the feathers on
a peacock's neck. It harmonized with all the rest of the room, where
warmth and colour and a certain fulness of detail gave the impression
of long-established easy living. The contrast was very strong with
Lois's own life surroundings; she compared and contrasted, and was not
quite sure how much of this sort of thing might be good for her.
However, for the present here she was, and she enjoyed it. Then she
queried if Mr. Dillwyn were enjoying it. She noticed the hand which he
had run through the locks of his hair, resting his head on the hand. It
was well formed, well kept; in that nothing remarkable; but there was a
certain character of energy in the fingers which did not look like the
hand of a lazy man. How could he spend his life so in doing nothing?
She did not fancy that he cared much about the game, or much about the
talk; what was he there for, so often? Did he, possibly, care about
Madge? Lois's thoughts came back to the conversation.

"Mrs. Wishart, what is to be done with the poor of our city?" Mr.
Dillwyn was saying.

"I don't know! I wish something could be done with them, to keep them
from coming to the house. My cook turns away a dozen a day, some days."

"Those are not the poor I mean."

"They are poor enough."

"They are to a large extent pretenders. I mean the masses of solid
poverty which fill certain parts of the city--and not small parts
either. It is no pretence there."

"I thought there were societies enough to look after them. I know I pay
my share to keep up the societies. What are they doing?"

"Something, I suppose. As if a man should carry a watering-pot to
Vesuvius."

"What in the world has turned _your_ attention that way? I pay my
subscriptions, and then I discharge the matter from my mind. It is the
business of the societies. What has set you to thinking about it?"

"Something I have seen, and something I have heard."

"What have you heard? Are you studying political economy? I did not
know you studied anything but art criticism."

"What do you do with your poor at Shampuashuh, Miss Madge?"

"We do not have any poor. That is, hardly any. There is nobody in the
poorhouse. A few--perhaps half a dozen--people, cannot quite support
themselves. Check to your q