Nobody

"Don't talk about it!" said Mrs. Wishart. "It makes me feel blue."

"I must risk that. I want you to think about it. Where is help to comefrom? These are the people I was thinking of, when I asked you what wasto be done with our poor."

"I don't know why you ask me. I can do nothing. It is not mybusiness."

"Will it do to assume that as quite certain?"

"Why yes. What can I do with a set of master tailors?"

"You can cry down the cheap shops; and say why."

"Are the dear shops any better?"

Mr. Dillwyn laughed. "Presumably! But talking – even your talking – willnot do all. I want you to think about it."

"I don't want to think about it," answered the lady. "It's beyond me.Poverty is people's own fault. Industrious and honest people can alwaysget along."

"If sickness does not set in, or some father, or husband, or son doesnot take to bad ways."

"How can I help all that?" asked the lady somewhat pettishly. "I neverknew you were in the benevolent and reformatory line before, Mr.Dillwyn. What has put all this in your head?"

"Those scarfs, for one thing. Another thing was a visit I had latelyoccasion to make. It was near midday. I found a room as bare as a roomcould be, of all that we call comfort; in the floor a small pine tableset with three plates, bread, cold herrings, and cheese. That was thedinner for a little boy, whom I found setting the table, and his fatherand mother. The parents work in a factory hard by, from early to late; they have had sickness in the family this autumn, and are too poor toafford a fire to eat their dinner by, or to make it warm, so the otherchild, a little girl, has been sent away for the winter. It wasfrostily cold the day I was there. The boy goes to school in theafternoon, and comes home in time to light up a fire for his father andmother to warm themselves by at evening. And the mother has all herhousework to do after she comes home."

"That's better than the other case," said Mrs. Wishart.

"But what could be done, Mr. Dillwyn?" said Lois from her corner. "Itseems as if something was wrong. But how could it be mended?"

"I want Mrs. Wishart to consider of that."

"I can't consider it!" said the lady. "I suppose it is intended thatthere should be poor people always, to give us something to do."

"Then let us do it."

"How?"

"I am not certain; but I make a suggestion. Suppose all the ladies ofthis city devoted their diamonds to this purpose. Then any number ofdwelling-houses could be put up; separate, but so arranged as to bewarmed by steam from a general centre, at a merely nominal cost foreach one; well ventilated and comfortable; so putting an end to theenormity of tenement houses. Then a commission might be established tolook after the rights of the poor; to see that they got proper wages, were not cheated, and that all should have work who wanted it. So muchmight be done."

"With no end of money."

"I proposed to take the diamonds of the city, you know."

"And why just the diamonds?" inquired Mrs. Wishart. "Why don't youspeak of some of the indulgences of the men? Take the horses – or thewines – "

"I am speaking to a lady," said Dillwyn, smiling. "When I have a man toapply to, I will make my application accordingly."

"Ask him for his tobacco?" said Mrs. Wishart.

"Certainly for his tobacco. There is as much money spent in this cityfor tobacco as there is for bread."

Madge exclaimed in incredulous astonishment; and Lois asked if thediamonds of the city would amount to very much.

"Yes, Miss Lois. American ladies are very fond of diamonds; and it is acommon thing for one of them to have from ten thousand to twentythousand or thirty thousand dollars' worth of them as part of theadornment of her pretty person at one time."

"Twenty thousand dollars' worth of diamonds on at once!" cried Madge.

"I call that wicked!"

"Why?" asked Mr. Dillwyn, smiling.

"There's no wickedness in it," said Mrs. Wishart. "How should it bewicked? You put on a flower; and another, who can afford it, puts on adiamond. What's the difference?"

"My flower does not cost anybody anything," said Madge.

"What do my diamonds cost anybody?" returned Mrs. Wishart.

Madge was silent, though not because she had nothing to say; and atthis precise moment the door opened, and visitors were ushered in.

CHAPTER XLI

CHESS

There entered upon the scene, that is, a little lady of very gay andairy manner; whose airiness, however, was thoroughly well bred. She wasaccompanied by a tall, pleasant-looking man, of somewhat dreamy aspect; and they were named to Lois and Madge as Mrs. and Mr. Burrage. To Mr.Dillwyn they were not named; and the greet ing in that quarter wasfamiliar; the lady giving him a nod, and the gentleman an easy "Goodevening." The lady's attention came round to him again as soon as shewas seated.

"Why, Philip, I did not expect to find you. What are you doing here?"

"I was making toast a little while ago."

"I did not know that was one of your accomplishments."

"They said I did it well. I have picked up a good deal of cooking inthe course of my travels."

"In what part of the world did you learn to make toast?" asked thelady, while a pair of lively eyes seemed to take note rapidly of allthat was in the room; rapidly but carefully, Lois thought. She was gladshe herself was hidden in the shadowy sofa corner.

"I believe that is always learned in a cold country, where people havefire," Mr. Dillwyn answered the question.

"These people who travel all over get to be insufferable!" the littlelady went on, turning to Mrs. Wishart; "they think they knoweverything; and they are not a bit wiser than the rest of us. You werenot at the De Large's luncheon, – what a pity! I know; your cold shutyou up. You must take care of that cold. Well, you lost something. Thisis the seventh entertainment that has been given to that English party; and every one of them has exceeded the others. There is nothing leftfor the eighth. Nobody will dare give an eighth. One is fairly tiredwith the struggle of magnificence. It's the battle of the giants overagain, with a difference."

"It is not a battle with attempt to destroy," said her husband.

"Yes, it is – to destroy competition. I have been at every one of theseven but one – and I am absolutely tired with splendour. But there isreally nothing left for any one else to do. I don't see how one is togo any further – without the lamp of Aladdin."

"A return to simplicity would be grateful," remarked Mrs. Wishart. "Andas new as anything else could be."

"Simplicity! O, my dear Mrs. Wishart! – don't talk of simplicity. Wedon't want simplicity. We have got past that. Simplicity is the dreamof children and country folks; and it means, eating your meat with yourfingers."

"It's the sweetest way of all," said Dillwyn.

"Where did you discover that? It must have been among savages.