The color flew to her cheeks.
"Why shouldn't they? Go and preach to your own sex."
"No good!" He shrugged his shoulders. "But women are supposed to have consciences. And—especially—Liberal women," he added, slowly, as his eyes traveled over her dress.
"And pray why should Liberal women be ascetics any more than any other kind of women?" she asked him, quietly.
"Why?" His voice grew suddenly loud. "Because there are thousands of people in this country perishing for lack of proper food and clothing—and it is the function of Liberals to bring it home to the other thousands."
Arthur Coryston broke out indignantly:
"I say, Cony, do hold your tongue! You do talk such stuff!"
The young man, sitting where the whole careless grace of Miss Glenwilliam's person was delightfully visible to him, showed a countenance red with wrath.
Coryston faced round upon him, transformed. His frown had disappeared in a look of radiant good humor.
"Look here, Arthur, you've got the money-bags—you might leave me the talking. Has he told you what's happened?"