"'What's the matter with me?'
"He smiled in both kindness and fun. 'One who did not love you might call you a thoughtless, pleasure-loving butterfly. Are you satisfied with that?'
"I believe I began to cry then. I had always thought very well of myself, you see.
"He went on: 'I know it seems a dreadful task to the young, to think. But it need not be. Try the wings of thought warily. Be satisfied with little flights at first. I mean, think with your heart, too. That ought not to be hard for a woman. Consider the poor people in the city below, who, by the workings of an evil system, are actually enslaved to the rich. Are you willing to continue to pass your days in delicious idleness at the cost of the women and children down there; the little children already bent and emaciated by overwork, who have no release in sight but death?'
"'I am not responsible!' I cried aghast.
"'But you are!' he said sternly. 'For the very people that I speak of work on the plantations and in the factories that pay the dividends that bought this exquisite dress you are wearing, and that string of pearls around your neck.'
"I tore off the pearls and tried to press them into his hand. 'Take them and sell them and give them the money,' I implored him.
"'Put them on again,' he said coldly. 'They do not ask for charity, but justice.'
"Well, there was much more to the same effect. I don't suppose you need it as much as I did, so I will hasten on with my story. This was exactly the way Francisco had said that Antonio Bareda talked, but somehow in my uncle's own kind voice it had a very different effect; it had the ring of the truth. If he had been content simply to have lectured me like a school-master I should have listened with my tongue in my cheek, and would have hastened to tell Francisco afterward, and laugh with him. But Uncle Tony seemed sorry for me; that was what brought the tears to my eyes. And he was so very kind, and so ready to laugh, too, and he understood me so well. I didn't understand half what he said, but I knew from his deep sad eyes that he was right. I had never seen the proud and confident Francisco's eyes soften.
"When he left me I wept bitterly. I cannot describe my state of mind; fear for him, fear for myself, lonesomeness, self-distrust, all had a part in it. Of course the final effect was what he had intended. Willy-nilly I began to think of these matters. Since that hour I have not been able to stop thinking. And even if this dreadful tragedy had not taken place I should never have been the same as I was before.