make them understand for five minutes! But they must see the truth some day . . . If only one could make them see it. . .”
Mary knew herself to be very much wiser than Mrs. Seal, and when Mrs. Seal said anything, even if it was what Mary herself was feeling, she automatically thought of all that there was to be said against it. On this occasion her arrogant feeling that she could direct everybody, dwindled away.
“Let’s have our tea,” she said, turning back from the window and pulling down the blind. “It was a good meeting—didn’t you think so, Sally?” she let fall, casually, as she sat down at the table. Surely Mrs. Seal must realize that Mary had been extraordinarily efficient?
“But we go at such a snail’s pace,” said Sally, shaking her head impatiently.
At this Mary burst out laughing, and all her arrogance was dissipated.
“You can afford to laugh,” said Sally, with another shake of her head, “but I can’t. I’m fifty-five, and I dare say I shall be in my grave by the time we get it—if we ever do.”
“Oh no, you won't be in your grave,” said Mary, kindly.
“It’ll be such a great day,” said Mrs. Seal, with a toss of her locks. “A great day, not only for us, but for civilization. That’s what I feel, you know, about these meetings. Each one of them is a step onwards in the great march—humanity, you know. We do want the people after us to have a better time of it—and so many don’t see it. I wonder how it is that they don’t see it?”
She was carrying plates and cups from the cupboard as she spoke, so that her sentences were more than usually broken apart. Mary could not help looking at the odd little priestess of humanity with something like admira-
