IN A WINTER VITY, 141
genius, and are ordered to learn to blush with
shame because our ancient cities, sacred with th*.
ashes of heroes, are not spurious brand-new lath
and plaster human ant-hills of the growth of yester¬
day !------ Forgive me, Madame," he said, inter-
laipting himself, with a little laugh, " I forget that
I am tedious to you. With the taxes at fifty-two
per cent., a poor landowner Uke myself may incline
to think that all is not as well as it should be."
" You interest me," said the Lady HUda, and
her eyes dwelt on him with a grave, musing
regard that they had given to no man, " and on
your own lands, with your own people—how is it
there ? "
His face brightened.
" My people love me," he said, softly. " As
for the lands—when one is poor, one cannot
do much; but every one is content on them—
that is something."
" Is it not everythmg ? " said the Lady Hilda,
with a Uttle sigh; for she herself, who coxUd
gratify her every wish, had never yet qmte known
what content could mean. " Let us go and look
at the baU-room; Mila wiU be conung to know