How do you think the experiment has ended?
The Squire of the parish calls me a Communist; the farmers denounce me as an Incendiary; my friend the rector has been recalled in a hurry, and I have now the honor of speaking to you in the character of a banished man who has made a respectable neighborhood too hot to hold him." With that frank avowal he left the luncheon table, and took a chair near Mercy.
"You will naturally be anxious," he went on, "to know what my offense was.

Do you understand Political Economy and the Laws of Supply and Demand ?" Mercy owned that she did _not_ understand them.
"No more do I--in a Christian country," he said.

"That was my offense.
You shall hear my confession (just as my aunt will hear it) in two words." He paused for a little while; his variable manner changed again.

Mercy, shyly looking at him, saw a new expression in his eyes--an expression which recalled her first remembrance of him as nothing had recalled it yet.

"I had no idea," he resumed, "of what the life of a farm-laborer really was, in some parts of England, until I undertook the rector's duties.