wedge to the bottomless pit of barbarism. But he is the ward of the Republic—our only orphan, chronic, incapable. That wardship is a grip of steel on the throat of the South. Back of it is an ocean of maudlin sentimental fools. I am simply making the most of the situation. I didn't make it to order. I'm just doing the best I can with the material in hand."
"Why don't you come out like a man and defy this horde of fools?"
"Martyrdom has become too cheap. The preachers have a hundred thousand missionaries now we are trying to support."
"Allan, I thought you held below the rough surface of your nature high ideals,—you don't mean this."
"What could one man do against these millions?"
"Do!" she cried, her face ablaze. "The history of the world is made up of the individuality of a few men. A little Yankee woman wrote a crude book. The single act of that woman's will caused the war, killed a million men, desolated and ruined the South, and changed the history of the world. The single dauntless personality of George Washington three times saved the colonies from surrender and created the Republic. I am surprised to hear a man of your brain and reading talk like that!"
"When I am with you and hear your voice I have heroic impulses. You are the only human being with whom I would take the time to discuss this question. But the current is too strong. The other way is easier, and it serves my ends better. Besides, I am not sure it isn't better from every point of view. We've got the Negro here, and must educate him."
"Hush! Tell that to somebody that hates you, not to me," she cried.
"Don't you think we must educate them?"
"No, I think it is a crime."
