“Do with it!” Boden turned upon her.  “Grow a few ideas in your landlord garden!  Turn the ground of it—­enrich it—­change it—­try experiments!  How long will this England leave the land to you landowners, unless you bring some mind to it—­aye, and the best of your souls! you—­the nation’s servants!  Here is a great tract left desolate by one man’s wickedness.  Restore the waste places—­build—­people—­teach!  Heavens, what a chance!” His eyes kindled.  “And when Faversham and Lydia come back—­yoke them in too.  Curator!—­stuff!  If he won’t own that estate, make him govern it, and play the man.  Disinterested power!—­with such a wife—­and such a friend!  Could a man ask better of the gods!  Now is your moment.  Rural England turns to you, its natural leaders, to shape it afresh.  Shirk—­refuse—­at your peril!”