The major nodded. "So, partly from sentimental reasons, and partly because there was no one better, I've left the property at Rudham to you," he went on with a smile. "There would have been plenty of money to have left with it; but I've made some very bad speculations lately, and lost a great deal. I took to speculation from sheer want of amusement. I was a good billiard player as long as I had the use of my limbs; but here I've been, literally tied by the legs, for the last two years. The only thing properly alive about me was my brain, and speculation has interested me; but I was badly hit ten days ago. There will be some money, but you won't be a rich man." "I don't care about it," interposed Paul, eagerly. "Then you ought to; a landlord poorly off is in a bad case in these days; and I want things kept as they are, Paul. I've not lived at Rudham, but I've kept my eye on it all the same; and what you call progress, and its attendant abominations, has not hurt it much yet. I made a mistake when I let the bishop nominate a successor to the living when old Gregg died three years ago. Curzon's a go-ahead fellow, from all that I hear; I don't want a go-ahead squire." "I'm afraid you've made another mistake, and, if there's time, you had better undo it," said Paul, gravely. "Do I look like a man who can re-arrange all his matters?" asked the Major, irritably. "After all, what I ask of you is no very hard thing to grant; simply to accept the good the gods provide, and let well alone." "But that for me is an impossible condition," said Paul. "I cannot let things alone if I feel that I can better them. I'm in no way fitted for a country squire; I've been brought up on different lines from you, and arrived at very different conclusions. I am grateful to you for your thought of me, but I want to live my own life unfettered by any conditions." "And this is how you show your readiness to carry out any wish of mine?" said the major, bitterly. "I'm sorry; but I promised in the dark, not knowing that my principles would be involved." "I'm glad to hear you have any. May I ask what you call yourself? A Lessing who is not a Conservative is not worthy of the name." "I scarcely know what I am; but my friends call me a Socialist." "Then in Heaven's name, I've made a bigger blunder than the last!" said the squire, with an odd thrill in his voice. "It's not my fault; and there may still be time to undo it," said Paul, rising, for the flush that crept to the major's temples warned him that the interview had been too long and too exciting. "I would thank you, if I could, for the thought of me, and I am sorry to have been the cause of disappointment, but it would not have been honest to hide my opinions." "No; you've been honest enough, in all conscience. If there's yet time----" He broke off, turning away his head, and taking no notice of Paul's departure.