In our talk the other day, Mr.Hull, I got a clear idea of your character.A woman understands better.And I know that, after Victor told you the plain truth about the situation, you couldn't go on.''
David looked round rather wildly, swallowed hard several times, said hoarsely: ``I won't, if you'll marry me.''
But for a slight change of expression or of color Davy would have thought she had not heard--or perhaps that he had imagined he was uttering the words that forced themselves to his lips in spite of his efforts to suppress them.For she went on in the same impetuous, friendly way:
``It seemed to me that you have an instinct for the right that's unusual in men of your class.At least, I think it's unusual.Iconfess I've not known any man of your class except you--and Iknow you very slightly.It was I that persuaded Victor to go to you.He believes that a man's class feeling controls him-- makes his moral sense--compels his actions.But I thought you were an exception--and he yielded after I urged him a while.''
``I don't know WHAT I am,'' said Hull gloomily.``I think I want to do right.But--what is right? Not theoretical right, but the practical, workable thing?''
``That's true,'' conceded Selma.``We can't always be certain what's right.But can't we always know what's wrong? And, Mr.
Hull, it is wrong--altogether wrong--and YOU know it's wrong--to lend your name and your influence and your reputation to that crowd.They'd let you do a little good--why? To make their professions of reform seem plausible.To fool the people into trusting them again.And under cover of the little good you were showily doing, how much mischief they'd do! If you'll go back over the history of this town--of any town--of any country--you'll find that most of the wicked things--the things that pile the burdens on the shoulders of the poor--the masses--most of the wicked things have been done under cover of just such men as you, used as figureheads.''
``But I want to build up a new party--a party of honest men, honestly led,'' said Davy.
``Led by your sort of young men? I mean young men of your class.
Led by young lawyers and merchants and young fellows living on inherited incomes? Don't you see that's impossible,'' cried Selma.``They are all living off the labor of others.Their whole idea of life is exploiting the masses--is reaping where they have not sown or reaping not only what they've sown but also what others have sown--for they couldn't buy luxury and all the so-called refinements of life for themselves and their idle families merely with what they themselves could earn.How can you build up a really HONEST party with such men? They may mean well.They no doubt are honest, up to a certain point.But they will side with their class, in every crisis.And their class is the exploiting class.''
``I don't agree with you,'' said Davy.``You are not fair to us.''
``How!'' demanded Selma.
``I couldn't argue with you,'' replied Hull.``All I'll say is that you've seen only the one side--only the side of the working class.''
``That toils without ceasing--its men, its women, its children--'' said the girl with heaving bosom and flashing eyes--``only to have most of what it earns filched away from it by your class to waste in foolish luxury!''
``And whose fault is that?'' pleaded Hull.
``The fault of my class,'' replied she.``Their ignorance, their stupidity--yes, and their foolish cunning that overreaches itself.For they tolerate the abuses of the present system because each man--at least, each man of the ones who think themselves `smart'--imagines that the day is coming when he can escape from the working class and gain the ranks of the despoilers.''
``And you ask ME to come into the party of those people!''
scoffed Davy.
``Yes, Mr.Hull,'' said she--and until then he had not appreciated how lovely her voice was.``Yes--that is the party for you--for all honest, sincere men who want to have their own respect through and through.To teach those people--to lead them right--to be truthful and just with them--that is the life worth while.''
``But they won't learn.They won't be led right.They are as ungrateful as they are foolish.If they weren't, men like me trying to make a decent career wouldn't have to compromise with the Kellys and the Houses and their masters.What are Kelly and House but leaders of your class? And they lead ten to Victor Dorn's one.Why, any day Dorn's followers may turn on him--and you know it.''
``And what of that?'' cried Selma.``He's not working to be their leader, but to do what he thinks is right, regardless of consequences.Why is he a happy man, as happiness goes? Why has he gone on his way steadily all these years, never minding setbacks and failures and defeats and dangers? I needn't tell you why.''
``No,'' said Hull, powerfully moved by her earnestness.``Iunderstand.''
``The finest sentence that ever fell from human lips,'' Selma went on, ``was `Father, forgive them; they know not what they do.' Forgive them--forgive us all-- for when we go astray it is because we are in the dark.And I want you to come with us, Mr.
Hull, and help to make it a little less dark.At least, you will then be looking toward the light--and every one turned in that direction counts.''
After a long pause, Hull said:
``Miss Gordon, may I ask you a very personal question?''
``Yes,'' said she.
``Are you in love with Victor Dorn?''
Selma laughed merrily.``Jane Hastings had that same curiosity,'' said she.``I'll answer you as I answered her--though she didn't ask me quite so directly.No, I am not in love with him.We are too busy to bother about those things.We have too much to do to think about ourselves.''
``Then--there is no reason why I should not ask you to be my wife--why I should not hope--and try?''
She looked at him with a peculiar smile.``Yes, there is a very good reason.I do not love you, and I shall not love you.Ishall not have time for that sort of thing.''
``Don't you believe in love?''
