"What do you think, Phyllis!" whispered the Honorable Margaret, her eye on the chauffeur. "Mark Holroyd telephoned me at the Settlement. He told me he needed bucking up a bit, and was coming to me to be comforted. He's to be at the house at nine. Isn't he the dearest fellow?"
Phyllis opened her eyes wide; and then half closed them.
"He is one of the dearest, Peggy," she said softly.
III
"Lady Neville is a most estimable woman," observed Sir Peter, at breakfast the next morning, "and your friend Margaret is a very nice girl, as I have observed. But these places, my dear, these social settlements, as they call them, Saint Ruth's, and—er—the rest of them, are the breeding-places of discontent, of unrest hotbeds of socialism. I can't approve of your going there often."
"Well, of course, Uncle Peter, you know far more about it than I do. But I should think that Saint Ruth's would make the poor people more contented. If there were no such clean, bright, cheery places to go to, and to leave their babies in, and to hear music on summer nights, and see the motion-pictures which make them forget their hard, drudging, colorless lives for a little while,"—here Phyllis caught her breath in that fascinating way she has—"if there were no such helpful places, I should think they might be more hopeless and bitter. But when they know that Lady Neville, and you, and other rich people care something for them,—enough to want to give them some happy hours; when they see Peggy Neville teaching their little girls to sew,—don't you think they may feel less like throwing a stone through the windows of her motor?"
"Perhaps, my dear child, perhaps. I do not say you are wrong. I am inclined to think, however, that they suppose these—er—social settlements are maintained by the County Council, and supported by the rates. And I rather think," added Sir Peter, lighting his cigar, "I rather think they believe they pay the rates themselves."
"Have you ever visited Saint Ruth's, Uncle Peter? But I am sure you haven't, or I should have known it. Now, how can you sit in your library here and analyze the thoughts and motives of those poor people? What must Saint Ruth's seem to them, compared with their miserable dwellings?"
"I can't say I have ever been there," owned Sir Peter, "but I am one of the Board of Trustees, in charge of the funds of several philanthropic institutions, and I hear these things discussed. But, my dear child, I do not wish to offer any objection to your going there if you are interested. Good idea; see the other side. Of course, you won't ever go alone, though. Those East End streets, you know—better take the car and have Thompson wait. I will make an inquiry or two of Sir Charles Anstruther at the Club; he takes a deep interest in—er—these social settlements,—Toynbee Hall and——Ten o'clock! I shall be late. Good-bye, my dear. Have a good time in your own way."