“He has very sound notions in many things,—very sound, indeed. I wish, with all my heart, that more of the class he belongs to were animated with his sentiments. He is no advocate for pulling down; moderate, reasonable changes,—changes in conformity with the spirit of the age, in fact,—these he advocates. As I have already said, Gusty, these men are only dangerous when our own exclusiveness has made them so. Treat them fairly, admit them to your society, listen to their arguments, refute them, show them where they have mistaken us, and they are not dangerous.”

“I suppose you are right,” said she, musingly.

“Another thing astonishes me: he has no pride of purse about him; at least, I cannot detect it. He talks of money reasonably and fairly, acknowledges what it can and what it cannot do—”

“And what, pray, is that?” broke she in, hastily.

“I don't think there can be much dispute on that score!” said he, in a voice of pique. “The sturdiest advocate for the power of wealth never presumed to say it could make a man,—one of us!” said he, after a pause, that sent the blood to his face.

“But it can, and does, every day,” said she, resolutely. “Our peerage is invigorated by the wealth as well as by the talent of the class beneath it; and if Mr. Dunn be the millionnaire that common report proclaims him, I should like to know why that wealth, and all the influence that it wields, should not be associated with the institutions to which we owe our stability.”

“The wealth and the influence if you like, only not himself,” said the Earl, with a saucy laugh. “My dear Augusta,” he added, in a gentle tone, “he is a most excellent and a very useful man—where he is. The age suits him, and he suits the age. We live in stirring times, when these sharp intellects have an especial value.”

“You talk as if these men were your tools. Is it not just possible you may be theirs?” said she, impatiently.

“What monstrous absurdity is this, child!” replied he, angrily. “It is—it is downright—” he grew purple in the endeavor to find the right word,—“downright Chartism!”

“If so, the Chartists have more of my sympathy than I was aware of.”