God help him! I say." "I think He will," Barbara answered, calmly.

"You are speaking wildly, and I understand the reason and hope that you will forget your words, but whether you forget or remember, do not suppose that you frighten me.

You men who have made money," she went on with swelling indignation, "who have made money somehow, and have bought honours with the moneys somehow, think yourselves great, and in your little day, your little, little day that will end with three lines in small type in _The Times_, you are great in this vulgar land.

You can buy what you want and people creep round you and ask you for doles and favours, and railway porters call you 'my Lord' at every other step.

But you forget your limitations in this world, and that which lives above you.