"What foolish people sometimes call Progress—the taint of commercialism, purely utilitarian ideas; in short, all I've tried to keep Allenwood free from. Look at England! You know how the old friendly relations between landlord and tenant have been overthrown."
"I wonder whether they were always friendly?" Beatrice interposed.
"They ought to have been friendly, and in most of the instances I can think of they were. But what can one expect when a rich tradesman buys up a fine estate, and manages it on what he calls 'business lines'? This must mean putting the screw of a merciless competition upon the farmer. On the other hand, you see men with honored names living in extravagant luxury without a thought of their duty to their land, gambling on the Stock Exchange—even singing in music halls. The country's in a bad way when you read of its old aristocracy opening hat shops."
"But what are the poor people to do if they have no money?" Beatrice asked.
"The point is that they're being ruined by their own folly and the chaotic way things have been allowed to drift; but the other side of the picture's worse. When one thinks of wealth and poverty jostling each other in the towns; oppressive avarice and sullen discontent instead of helpful cooperation! The community plundered by trusts! Industries wrecked by strikes! This is what comes of free competition and contempt for authority; and the false principle that a man must turn all his talents to the making of money is at the root of it all."
It was a favorite hobby of the Colonel's, and Mrs. Mowbray made no remark; but Beatrice was pleased to see that he had forgotten Harding.
"You would have made a good feudal baron," she said with a smile. "Your retainers wouldn't have had many real grievances, but you would always have been on the king's side."
"The first principle of all firm and successful government is that the king can do no wrong."
"We don't challenge it at Allenwood, and it really seems to work well," Beatrice answered lightly; and then, because Mowbray insisted on formal manners, she turned to her mother. "And now, with your permission, I had better go to Lance."
When she left them Mowbray frowned.