as you think, the world would be a very different place."

"It would he a better place in more ways than one," he replied.

"And yet you yourself call it a dream," said Margaret, musing.

"It is only you, Countess, who say that dreams are never realised."

"And do you expect to realise yours?"

"Yes--I do." He looked at her with his bold blue eyes, and she thought
they sparkled.

"Tell me," she asked, "are you going to preach a crusade for the
liberation of our sex? Do you mean to bring about the great change in
the social relations of the world? Is it you who will build up the
pedestal which we are to mount and from which we shall survey countless
ranks of adoring men?"

"Do you not see, as you look down on me from your throne, from this
chair, that I have begun already?" answered Claudius, smiling, and
making a pretence of folding his hands.

"No," said the Countess, overlooking his last speech; "if you had any
convictions about it, as you pretend to have, you would begin at once
and revolutionise the world in six months. What is the use of dreaming?
It is not dreamers who make history."

"No, it is more often women. But tell me, Countess, do you approve of my
crusade? Am I not right? Have I your sanction?"