“The poor are to be fitly housed, as a matter of right, and from their own sense of self-respect,” returned Mrs. Duncombe; “not a few favourites, who will endure dictation, picked out for the model cottage.  It is the hobby system against which I protest.”

“Without quite knowing what was conveyed by it in this instance?” said Lady Tyrrell.  “I am sure there is nothing I wish more than that we had any power of improvement of the cottages here; but influence is our only weapon.”

“By the bye, Mrs. Poynsett,” continued Mrs. Duncombe, “will you give a hint to Mrs. Miles Charnock that it will never do to preach to the women at the working-room?  I don’t mean holding forth,” she added, seeing Cecil’s look of amazement; “but improving the occasion, talking piously, giving tracts, and so forth.”

“I thought you gave sanitary tracts!” said Lady Tyrrell.

“That is quite different.”

“I doubt whether the women would see the distinction.  A little book is a tract to them.”

“I would abstain rather than let our work get a goody reputation for indoctrinating sectarianism.  It would be all up with us; we might as well keep a charity school.”

“I don’t think the women dislike it,” said Cecil.

“Most likely they think it the correct thing, the grain which they must swallow with our benefits; but for that very reason it injures the whole tone, and prevents them learning independence.  Put it in that light; I know you can.”

“I don’t think Anne would understand,” said Cecil, somewhat flattered.

“I doubt whether there are three women in the neighbourhood who would,” said Lady Tyrrell.

“People always think charity—­how I hate the word!—­a means of forcing their own tenets down the throats of the poor,” said Mrs. Duncombe.  “And certainly this neighbourhood is as narrow as any I ever saw.  Nobody but you and—­shall I say the present company?—­has any ideas.  I wonder how they will receive Clio Tallboys and her husband?”

“Ah! you have not heard about them,” said Lady Tyrrell.  “Most delightful people, whom Mrs. Duncombe met on the Righi.  He is a Cambridge professor.”

“Taillebois—­I don’t remember the name,” said Cecil, “and we know a great many Cambridge men.  We went to a Commencement there.”

“Oh, not Cambridge on the Cam! the American Cambridge,” said Mrs. Duncombe.  “He is a quiet, inoffensive man, great on political economy; but his wife is the character.  Wonderfully brilliant and original, and such a lecturer!”

“Ladies’ lectures would startle the natives,” said Lady Tyrrell.

“Besides, the town-hall is lacking,” said Mrs. Duncombe; “but when the Tallboys come we might arrange a succession of soirees, where she might gather her audience.”

“But where?” said Lady Tyrrell.  “It would be great fun, and you might reckon on me; but where else?  Mrs. Charnock Poynsett has to think of la belle mere.”