“It is no use telling me he won’t go to bits if he has no principles to fall back on,” said Evan doggedly.
“But what about Evangeline’s principles?” Mrs. Vachell persisted.
“She has none. That is the whole point. It is where we started from——”
“You two are carrying on a very long flirtation,” interrupted Mrs. Trotter from the other side of the room. “Can’t we hear what it is all about? I heard something about principles just now. Do you believe in principles, Captain Hatton?”
“Yes,” said Evan. “I hope you are pleased with the lodgings my wife found for you.”
“Yes, thank you, they are delightful. But talking of principles, do you know, Mrs. Vachell, that your friend Fisk has been making the most dreadful havoc with his principles? You see we never get rid of these students like the ordinary undergraduates are disposed of, because they don’t go down for the vacs. They are at home all the time. And he has been spending his spare time in stirring up the Welsh and the Irish and every sort of rabble in the place, and holding meetings and passing resolutions. He gets hold of the wives and tells them they ought to be dressed in velvet and silk, and have time to read and play the piano. But Mrs. Price says all that is quite inconsistent with Communism. The real Communists want everyone to live as simply as possible and earn a small amount each day and then improve their minds. But since Mr. Fisk spent those few days with the Prices he has lost all his noble ideas about garden cities and honest toil and sandals or whatever he believed in, and in place of the blood that was to be spilled in the cause of education and leisure and concerts and so on he now wants rapine, and oh! the most frightful outrages! so that everyone may change places. He and his friends are to have education and champagne and talk big, while their female relations play the gramophone and order Mrs. Price about. It is all screamingly funny. Dear me, Captain Hatton, pray don’t look at me like that. Do you think one ought not to laugh at poor silly creatures? I do find human nature so very amusing sometimes. What do you think, Professor Vachell? Do you think the universities are doing good or harm?”
“They have hardly reached an age of full-grown responsibility yet,” he replied. “When ladies and Labour have joined our deliberations for a few years we shall be able to give a better opinion.”
“Now, don’t be sarcastic,” Mrs. Trotter warned him with a finger. “That is very naughty of you. I hope it will be a long time before your beautiful cloistered calm is invaded in any such way. I can’t imagine women and tradesmen holding forth in Oxford, can you, Mrs. Vachell?”
“So long as the present generation of poor weak fools, who will risk nothing, survive it is rather difficult,” she answered quietly. Evan started slightly as she spoke. “But even though every year the percentage is less of boys who are brought up to be bullies and of girls whose intelligence is crushed, it will take a long time to destroy the tradition. Don’t worry, Mrs. Trotter. Your system will probably last your time, and if your little girl does scandalise you by learning some other trade than husband hunting, she may make up by marrying a tradesman Prime Minister.”
“I don’t think that is at all likely,” Teresa broke in. “The tradesman Prime Minister would want a perfect lady for his wife; they always do. They boast of the work that their women do when they want to compare them with what they call the idle rich; but the very first thing they want to buy for their wives and daughters is exemption from any kind of work.”