“Yes, you will. You’ll come to it when you get a grasp of all the questions we’re out to solve. You’ll begin at the beginning, where I did, and master the theory of socialism—the theories I should say, because it’s a science that’s in the making and clever men are still working out the details. There’s a lot of difference of opinion, and so far as I can see, our leaders—the ‘intellectuals,’ as they are called—don’t see eye to eye by any means yet. They’re all for universal democracy, of course, and the government of the people by the people and the redistribution of wealth and the uplift of the worker and so on; but they differ as to how it’s to be done and how the mass is to be brought out of slavery to the promised land. In fact no two of ’em think the same, strange to say.” “It’s a big subject,” said Medora blankly. “It’s the only subject.” “I lay you’ve thought it all out.” “I’ve got my ideas, and in our evenings I shall put ’em before you and read you a lot I’ve written about it. We’ll go over it together, and you’ll bring your own wits to work on it when you’ve mastered all the different opinions.” “I wish I was half as clever as you think,” she said. “You don’t know what you can do till you try. The first thing is to get interested in it and let it soak into you. Once you feel like I do, that it is the only thing that really matters for the race, then you’ll properly live for it.” “I expect I shall,” replied Medora, with a fainting soul. “There’s noble women giving up their lives to it, and I hope you’ll be one of them some day.” She began to experience the discomfort of the mountain climber, who ascends into more rarefied air than he is accustomed to breathe. It was not until she had enjoyed a good lunch and a bottle of lemonade that Medora felt lighter-hearted. They went to no more music halls, but Jordan took her to a play of Shakespeare and a concert. They also visited the Mint, the Tower of London and the Zoological Gardens. At the last she was interested and happy. He improved every occasion. On one afternoon they went to a meeting of the Labour Party and heard great lights discuss the Internationale. Kellock flamed with enthusiasm afterwards and talked ceaselessly till bed time. She had never seen him so excited. She retired with a headache, bewildered and bored to tears. Of personal matters the only interest centred in a communication from Mr. Trenchard. As for Dingle, he did not answer Jordan’s letter. Nor did he come to see Jordan, as Medora half hoped he might. She trusted that some emotional scenes were to occur in the future; but if drama lay in store for her, it would doubtless be at Dene, not in London. She wrote to her mother justifying her conduct; but Lydia did not reply. “I’ve lost mother,” said Medora, after three days’ silence. “She’s not going to answer that nice letter I showed you. In fact I’ve lost everybody but you. And I’d lose them all a hundred times over for you, Jordan.”