‘Now, having seen our sight,’ said Robert, as they left the great mass of Murewell behind them, ‘come and see our scandal. Both run by the same proprietor, if you please. There is a hamlet down there in the hollow’--and he pointed to a gray speck in the distance--‘I which deserves a Royal Commission all to itself, which is a _disgrace_’--and his tone warmed--‘to any country, any owner, any agent! It is owned by Mr. Wendover, and I see the pleasing prospect straight before me of beginning my acquaintance with him by a fight over it. You will admit that it is a little hard on a man who wants to live on good terms with the possessor of the Murewell library to have to open relations with him by a fierce attack on his drains and his pigsties.’ He turned to his companion with a half-rueful spark of laughter in his gray, eyes. Langham hardly caught what he said. He was far away in meditations of his own. ‘An attack,’ he repeated vaguely; ‘why an attack?’ Robert plunged again into the great topic of which his quick mind was evidently full. Langham tried to listen, but was conscious that his friend’s social enthusiasms bored him a great deal. And side by side with the consciousness there slid in a little stinging reflection that four years ago no talk of Elsmere’s could have bored him. ‘What’s the matter with this particular place?’ he asked languidly, at last, raising his eyes toward the group of houses now beginning to emerge from the distance. An angry, red mounted in Robert’s cheek. ‘What isn’t the matter with it? The houses which were built on a swamp originally, are falling into ruin; the roofs, the drains, the accommodation per head, are all about equally scandalous. The place is harried with illness; since I came there has been both fever and diphtheria there. They are all crippled with rheumatism, but _that_ they think nothing of; the English laborer takes rheumatism as quite in the day’s bargain! And as to _vice_--the vice that comes of mere endless persecuting opportunity--I can tell you one’s ideas of personal responsibility get a good deal shaken up by a place like this! And I can do nothing. I brought over Henslowe to see the place, and he behaved like a brute. He scoffed at all my complaints, said that no landlord would be such a fool as to build fresh cottages on such a site, that the old ones must just be allowed to go to ruin; that the people might live in them if they chose, or turn out of them if they chose. Nobody forced them to do either; it was their own look-out.’ ‘That was true,’ said Langham, ‘wasn’t it?’ Robert turned upon him fiercely.