respectable press, and constructive portions of the
community, that omelette can be made without breaking
eggs. On one thing alone, the whole house party
was agreed—the importance of the question.
Indeed, a sincere conviction on this point was like
the card one produces before one is admitted to certain
functions. No one came to Becket without it;
or, if he did, he begged, borrowed, or stole it the
moment he smelled Clara’s special pot-pourri
in the hall; and, though he sometimes threw it out
of the railway-carriage window in returning to town,
there was nothing remarkable about that. The
conversational debauch of the first night’s dinner—and,
alas! there were only two even at Becket during a week-end—had
undoubtedly revealed the feeling, which had set in
of late, that there was nothing really wrong with
the condition of the agricultural laborer, the only
trouble being that the unreasonable fellow did not
stay on the land. It was believed that Henry
Wiltram, in conjunction with Colonel Martlett, was
on the point of promoting a policy for imposing penalties
on those who attempted to leave it without good reason,
such reason to be left to the discretion of impartial
district boards, composed each of one laborer, one
farmer, and one landowner, decision going by favor
of majority. And though opinion was rather freely
expressed that, since the voting would always be two
to one against, this might trench on the liberty of
the subject, many thought that the interests of the
country were so much above this consideration that
something of the sort would be found, after all, to
be the best arrangement. The cruder early notions
of resettling the land by fostering peasant proprietorship,
with habitable houses and security of tenure, were
already under a cloud, since it was more than suspected
that they would interfere unduly with the game laws
and other soundly vested interests. Mere penalization
of those who (or whose fathers before them) had at
great pains planted so much covert, enclosed so much
common, and laid so much country down in grass was
hardly a policy for statesmen. A section of the
guests, and that perhaps strongest because most silent,
distinctly favored this new departure of Henry Wiltram’s.
Coupled with his swinging corn tax, it was indubitably
a stout platform.
A second section of the guests spoke openly in favor of Lord Settleham’s policy of good-will. The whole thing, they thought, must be voluntary, and they did not see any reason why, if it were left to the kindness and good intentions of the landowner, there should be any land question at all. Boards would be formed in every county on which such model landowners as Sir Gerald Malloring, or Lord Settleham himself, would sit, to apply the principles of goodwill. Against this policy the only criticism was levelled by Felix. He could have agreed, he said, if he had not noticed that Lord Settleham, and nearly all landowners, were thoroughly satisfied with their existing