"What is coming?"
"I don't know all the details. But, among other things, there's to be a frightful personal attack on Mr. Trafford because he is one of Mr. Atwater's allies. Mr. Atwater thinks, or pretends, he can prevent it; but he can't. The attack is sure to come."
"They couldn't truthfully say anything against Mr. Trafford," said his wife, with a heat that was genuine, yet perfunctory, too. "He's human, of course. But I who have lived with him all these years can honestly say that he spends his whole life in trying to do good. He slaves for the poor people who have their little all invested with his company." Neva had not smiled, but Mrs. Trafford went on, as if she had: "I suppose you're thinking that sounds familiar. Oh, I know every man downtown pretends he is working only for the good of others, to keep business going, and to give labor steady employment, when of course he's really working to get rich, and— Well, somebody must be losing all this money that's piling up in the hands of a few people who spend it in silly, wicked luxury. Now, we have always frowned on that sort of thing. We—Mr. Trafford and I—set our faces against extravagance and simply live comfortably. He often says, 'I don't know what the country's coming to. The men downtown, the leaders, seem to have gone mad. They have no sense of responsibility. They aren't content with legitimate profits, but grab, grab, until I wonder people don't rise up.' And he says they will, though, of course, that wouldn't do any good, as things'd just settle back and the same old round would begin all over again. If people won't look after their own property, they can't expect to keep it, can they?"
"No," assented Neva. "Still—I sometimes wonder that the robbing should be done by the class of men that does it. One would think he wouldn't need to protect himself against those who claim to be the leaders in honesty and honor. It's as if one should have to lock up all the valuables if the bishop came to spend the night."
"There's the shame of it!" exclaimed Mrs. Trafford. "Sometimes Trafford tells me about the men that come here, the really fine, distinguished, gentlemanly ones—well, if I could repeat some of the things to you!"
"I should think," suggested Neva, "it would be dangerous to have business dealings with such men. If trouble came, people might not discriminate."
Mrs. Trafford caught the under-meaning in Neva's words and tone. She reflected a moment—thoughts that made her curiously serious—before replying, "Sometimes I'm afraid my husband will get himself into just that sort of miserable mess. He is so generous and confiding, and he believes so implicitly in some of those men whom I don't believe in at all. Tell me, Neva, are you sure—about that attack, and about Mr. Atwater's being mistaken?"
"There isn't a doubt of it," replied Neva. "Mr. Trafford ought not to let anything anyone says to the contrary influence him." And Mrs. Trafford's opinion of her directness and honesty gave her words the greatest possible weight.
"I'm ever so much obliged to you, dear," said she. "It isn't often one gets a proof of real friendship in this walk of life."
"I didn't do it altogether for your sake," replied Neva. "It seemed to me, from what I heard, that the men downtown were rushing on to do things that would result in no good and much harm and—unhappiness. I suppose, if evil has been done, it ought to be exposed; but I think, too, that no good comes of malicious and vengeful exposures."