"Not at all. I have only to use my instance for another purpose, in another way. You are thinking of the Bill, of course? But all we do is to say to some of these victims, 'Your sacrifice, as it stands, is _too_ costly; the State in its own interest cannot go on exacting or allowing it. We will help you to serve the community in ways that shall exhaust and wound it less.'" "And as a first step, drive you all comfortably into the workhouse!" said George. "Don't omit that." "Many individuals must suffer," she said steadily. "But there will be friends to help--friends that will strain every nerve to help." All her heart showed itself in voice and emphasis. Almost for the first time in their evening's talk her natural passionateness came to sight--the Southern, impulsive temper, that so often made people laugh at or dislike her. Under the lace shawl she had thrown round her on coming out he saw the quick rise and fall of the breast, the nervous clasp of the hands lying on the stonework of the bridge. These were her prophetess airs again. To-night they still amused him, but in a gentler and more friendly way. "And so, according to your own account, you will protect your tailoress and unmake your country. I am sorry for your dilemma," he said, laughing. "Ah! well,"--she shrugged her shoulders with a sigh,--"don't let's talk of it. It's all too pressing--and sore--and hot. And to think of the weeks that are just coming on!" George, hanging over the parapet beside her, felt reply a little awkward, and said nothing. For a minute or two the night made itself heard, the gentle slipping of the river, the fitful breathings from the trees. A swan passed and repassed below them, and an owl called from the distant woods. Presently Marcella lifted a white finger and pointed to the house. "One wouldn't want a better parable," she said. "It's like the State as you see it--magnificent, inspiring, a thing of pomp and dignity. But we women, who have to drive and keep going a house like that--_we_ know what it all rests upon. It rests upon a few tired kitchen-maids and boot-boys and scullery-girls, hurrying, panting creatures, whom a guest never sees, who really run it all. I know, for I have tried to unearth them, to organise them, to make sure that no one was fainting while we were feasting. But it is incredibly hard; half the human race believes itself born to make things easy for the other half. It comes natural to them to ache and toil while we sit in easy chairs. What they resent is that we should try to change it." "Goodness!" said George, pulling at his moustaches. "I don't recognise my own experience of the ordinary domestic polity in that summary." "I daresay. You have to do with the upper servant, who is always a greater tyrant than his master," she retorted, her voice expressing a curious medley of laughter and feeling. "I am speaking of the people that are not seen, like the tailoress and shirtmaker, in your drum-and-trumpet State."