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