“To the eye it is fair enough, here; but seen in its integrity,

under the sky, and by the daylight, it is a crumbling tower of

waste, mismanagement, extortion, debt, mortgage, oppression,

hunger, nakedness, and suffering.”

“Hah!” said the Marquis again, in a well-satisfied manner.

“If it ever becomes mine, it shall be put into some hands better

qualified to free it slowly (if such a thing is possible) from the

weight that drags it down, so that the miserable people who

cannot leave it and who have been long wrung to the last point of

endurance, may, in another generation, suffer less; but it is not for

me. There is a curse on it, and on all this land.”

“And you?” said the uncle. “Forgive my curiosity; do you,

under your new philosophy, graciously intend to live?”

“I must do, to live, what others of my countrymen, even with

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nobility at their backs, may have to do some daywork.”

“In England, for example?”

“Yes. The family honour, sir, is safe from me in this country.

The family name can suffer from me in no other, for I bear it in no

other.”

The ringing of the bell had caused the adjoining bed-chamber

to be lighted. It now shone brightly, through the door of

communication. The Marquis looked that way, and listened for the

retreating step of his valet.

“England is very attract