And there was no nobler mission for her than the liberation of her sex. The Tailoress was employed in an ill-paid industry, which was almost entirely in the hands of women. Already in her own shop she was looked upon as an oracle. Could she not learn that, in helping secure better conditions of life for her fellow-workers, she would be doing higher service than she could ever do in search for knowledge, or in devotion to art?
I, who was still at the mercy of indiscriminate enthusiasm, and had not yet learned to let other people’s causes alone, promised to go with the Tailoress to the Anarchist, that she might learn from him the social wrong from which she was suffering, and the social mission to which she was called.
CHAPTER XXVI
Our passion for comprehending invaded even our friendships. A friend was no longer simply a friend, but a riddle to be read, a proposition to be understood and expounded. Everybody talked of everybody else, and we analyzed and dissected one another with great calmness. The temperaments of our confrères, their growth and change in ideas,—all these matters we tossed back and forth over many a cup of afternoon tea.
The Lad did not shine in this work of analysis. We all decided that he was no judge of character: he had so little insight into people’s faults. The opinions that he formed were most astounding. To him the Man of the World was a promising child, and he regarded me as a person of firmest conviction, not seeing how I was swayed this way and that by any new idea. In those days everything that I heard impressed me greatly.
When we were all together, we talked of our remoter acquaintances. The Man of the World afforded us much amusement, and the Butterfly Hunter interested us greatly. But when the little coterie was not complete, the absent members often became the subject of conversation.
Our best epigrams, I noticed, were made about the Altruist. It was easy to be clever at his expense.
“What I admire most about him,” said the Doctor, “is his brilliant lack of logic. He is never so convincing as when he contradicts himself.”
“Paul has that exclusive belief in his immediate notion which is so effective in this world,” said Janet. “The difference between him and me is this: I can never believe in anything that I am doing, and he can never believe in anything that he is not doing.”
I defended the Altruist. His burning zeal for good, I maintained, consumed all minor faults. One could forgive him much for the greatness of his endeavour.