Twelve shillings a week, and work about half the year! Oh! they _ought_ to hate us!--I try to make them," cried Marcella, her eyes gleaming.

"They ought to hate all of us landowners, and the whole wicked system.

It keeps them from the land which they ought to be sharing with us; it makes one man master, instead of all men brothers.

And who is fit to be master?
Which of us?
Everybody is so ready to take the charge of other people's lives, and then look at the result!" "Well, the result, even in rural England, is not always so bad," said Aldous Raeburn, smiling a little, but more coldly.

Marcella, glancing at him, understood in a moment that she had roused a certain family and class pride in him--a pride which was not going to assert itself, but none the less implied the sudden opening of a gulf between herself and him.