‘Ah, if you could only see into the life of the poor, you would acknowledge that those means are and can be nothing to them. Besides, my way of thinking in such things is the same as your brother’s, and I can’t expect you to see any good in it.’
Adela shook her head slightly. She had risen and was examining the leaves upon an apple branch which she had drawn down.
‘But I’m sure you feel that there is need for doing something,’ he urged, quitting his seat. ‘You’re not indifferent to the hard lives of the people, as most people are who have always lived comfortable lives?’
She let the branch spring up, and spoke more coldly.
‘I hope I am not indifferent; but it is not in my power to do anything.’
‘Will you let me say that you are mistaken in that?’ Mutimer had never before felt himself constrained to qualify and adorn his phrases; the necessity made him awkward. Not only did he aim at polite modes of speech altogether foreign to his lips, but his own voice sounded strange to him in its forced suppression. He did not as yet succeed in regarding himself from the outside and criticising the influences which had got hold upon him; he was only conscious that a young lady—the very type of young lady that a little while ago he would have held up for scorn—was subduing his nature by her mere presence and exacting homage from him to which she was wholly indifferent. ‘Everyone can give help in such a cause as this. You can work upon the minds of the people you talk with and get them to throw away their prejudices. The cause of the working classes seems so hopeless just because they’re too far away to catch the ears of those who oppress them.’
‘I do not oppress them, Mr. Mutimer.’
Adela spoke with a touch of impatience. She wished to bring this conversation to an end, and the man would give her no opportunity of doing so. She was not in reality paying attention to his arguments, as was evident in her echo of his last words.
‘Not willingly, but none the less you do so,’ he rejoined. ‘Everyone who lives at ease and without a thought of changing the present state of society is tyrannising over the people. Every article of clothing you put on means a life worn out somewhere in a factory. What would your existence be without the toil of those men and women who live and die in want of every comfort which seems as natural to you as the air you breathe? Don’t you feel that you owe them something? It’s a debt that can very easily be forgotten, I know that, and just because the creditors are too weak to claim it. Think of it in that way, and I’m quite sure you won’t let it slip from your mind again.’
Alfred came towards them, announcing that tea was ready, and Adela gladly moved away.