FEJEVARY:  And this is what you say to me at the close of my years of trusteeship!  If you could know how I’ve nursed that little legacy along—­until now it is—­(breaking off in anger) I shall not permit you to destroy yourself!

MADELINE:  (quietly) I don’t see how you can keep me from ’destroying myself’.

FEJEVARY:  (looking at her, seeing that this may be true.  In genuine amazement, and hurt) Why—­but it’s incredible.  Have I—­has my house—­been nothing to you all these years?

MADELINE:  I’ve had my best times at your house.  Things wouldn’t have been—­very gay for me—­without you all—­though Horace gets my goat!

FEJEVARY:  And does your Aunt Isabel—­’get your goat’?

MADELINE:  I love auntie. (rather resentfully) You know that.  What has that got to do with it?

FEJEVARY:  So you are going to use Silas Morton’s money to knife his college.

MADELINE:  Oh, Uncle Felix, that’s silly.

FEJEVARY:  It’s a long way from silly.  You know a little about what I’m trying to do—­this appropriation that would assure our future.  If Silas Morton’s granddaughter casts in her lot with revolutionists, Morton College will get no help from the state.  Do you know enough about what you are doing to assume this responsibility?

MADELINE:  I am not casting ‘in my lot with revolutionists’.  If it’s true, as you say, that you have to have money in order to get justice—­

FEJEVARY:  I didn’t say it!

MADELINE:  Why, you did, Uncle Felix.  You said so.  And if it’s true that these strangers in our country are going to be abused because they’re poor,—­what else could I do with my money and not feel like a skunk?

FEJEVARY:  (trying a different tack, laughing) Oh, you’re a romantic girl, Madeline—­skunk and all.  Rather nice, at that.  But the thing is perfectly fantastic, from every standpoint.  You speak as if you had millions.  And if you did, it wouldn’t matter, not really.  You are going against the spirit of this country; with or without money, that can’t be done.  Take a man like Professor Holden.  He’s radical in his sympathies—­but does he run out and club the police?

MADELINE:  (in a smouldering way) I thought America was a democracy.

FEJEVARY:  We have just fought a great war for democracy.

MADELINE:  Well, is that any reason for not having it?

FEJEVARY:  I should think you would have a little emotion about the war—­about America—­when you consider where your brother is.

MADELINE:  Fred had—­all kinds of reasons for going to France.  He wanted a trip. (answering his exclamation) Why, he said so.  Heavens, Fred didn’t make speeches about himself.  Wanted to see Paris—­poor kid, he never did see Paris.  Wanted to be with a lot of fellows—­knock the Kaiser’s block off—­end war, get a French girl.  It was all mixed up—­the way things are.  But Fred was a pretty decent sort.  I’ll say so.  He had such kind, honest eyes. (this has somehow said itself; her own eyes close and what her shut eyes see makes feeling hot) One thing I do know!  Fred never went over the top and out to back up the argument you’re making now!