this point, and Thomas turned a furtive eye upon her,
perhaps in appeal for protection against these unprovoked and
inexplicable attacks. 'One might think the gentleman thought I had a
vote and was canvassing me,' he said to Baines, condescending in this
their common perplexity. And Baines replied: 'I'm sure I don't know what
he's up to.'
Meanwhile Franklin, in the dining-room, folded his paper and said: 'You
know, Miss Buchanan, that Thomas, though a nice fellow, is remarkably
ignorant. I can't make out that there's anything of a civic or national
nature that he's interested in. He doesn't seem to read anything in the
papers except the racing and betting news. He doesn't seem to feel that
he has any stake in this great country of yours, or any responsibility
towards it. It makes me believe in manhood suffrage as I've never
believed before. Our people may be politically corrupt, but at least
they're interested; they're alive--alive enough to want to understand
how to get the best of things--as they see best. I've rarely met an
American that I couldn't get to talk; now it's almost impossible to get
Thomas to talk. Yet he's a nice young fellow; he has a nice, open,
intelligent face.'
'Oh yes, has he?' said Helen, who was looking over the envelopes at her
place. 'I hadn't noticed his face; very pink, isn't it?'
'Yes, he has a healthy colour,' said Franklin, still meditating on
Thomas's impenetrability. 'It's not that I don't perfectly understand
his being uncommunicative when he's engaged in his work--it was rather
tactless of me to talk to him just now, only the subject came up. I'd
been talking to Baines about the Old Age Pensions yesterday. That's one
of my objections to domestic service; it creates an artificial barrier
between man and man; but I know that the barrier is part of the
business, while the business is going on, and I've no quarrel with
social convention, as such. But even when they are alone with me--and
I'm referring to Baines now as much as to Thomas--they are very
uncommunicative. I met Thomas on the road to the village the other day
and could hardly get a word out of him till I began to talk about
cricket and ask him about it.'
'He is probably a stupid boy,' said Helen, 'and you frighten him.'
'If you say that, it's an indictment on the whole system, you know,'
said Franklin very gravely.
'What system?' Helen asked, opening her letters, but looking at Mr.
Kane.
'The system that makes s
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