"Democracy does not rule," cried the girl, "and never will. Democracy is a mob which is forever calling out for leaders. No Government is democratic, it is always autocratic."
"You are talking nonsense, child," said her father. "You can do nothing to-day against the voice of the people, and the voice of the people is against anything like war. I repeat what I said just now—I would rather see a son of mine dead than that he should be a soldier! But there, there! There is no chance of it. Whatever England has been, she is to-day at peace, and as far as Cornwall is concerned, as I said just now, John Wesley has killed militarism."
He left the room as he spoke, while Hugh Lethbridge looked meaningly towards his sister.
"I am afraid I shall have to be going," I said, looking at my watch. "I have stayed too long already."
"No, no!" protested Hugh. "Stay a little longer. Do you know, Erskine, it is like a fresh breeze from the mountains to hear what you have been saying to-night. We live a starved, narrow life down here, and—and I'm sick of it. I almost wish war would break out."
"For shame, Hugh!" said his mother. "What good would you be as a soldier? No one can be an officer in an army unless he is trained; and as for your becoming a private, why, think how ridiculous you would look in a private's uniform."
"I am afraid I must be going," I persisted, moving towards the door.
"I will have the car out and drive you home," said Hugh Lethbridge.
"No," I said, "it is a beautiful night, and I think I would rather walk."
"But in your state of health, Mr. Erskine, it would be very foolish," said Mrs. Lethbridge. "Really, we cannot allow you."