I suppose, he thought there was a difference between his obligation to
Janet Merryweather and to his brother's widow?"

"There was a difference, of course. Janet Merryweather could hardly have
had Angela's sensitive feelings--or at least it's a comfort to think
that, even if it happens not to be true. Before the war one hardly
ever heard of that class, mother used to say, it was so humble and
unpresuming--but in the last twenty-five or thirty years it has
overrun everything and most of the land about here has passed into its
possession."

She checked herself breathlessly, surprised and indignant that she
should have expressed her feelings so openly.

"Yes, I dare say," returned Jonathan--"The miller Revercomb is a good
example, I imagine, of just the thing you are speaking of--a kind of new
plant that has sprung up like fire-weed out of the ashes. Less than half
a century produced him, but he's here to stay, of that I am positive.
After all, why shouldn't he, when we get down to the question? He--or
the stock he represents, of course--is already getting hold of the
soil and his descendants will run the State financially as well as
politically, I suppose. We can't hold on, the rest of us--we're losing
grip--and in the end it will be pure pluck that counts wherever it comes
from."

"Ah, it's just that--pluck--but put the miller in the crucible
and you'll find how little pure gold there is to him. It is not in
prosperity, but in poverty that the qualities of race come to the
surface, and this remarkable miller of yours would probably be crushed
by a weight to which poor little Mrs. Bland at the post-office--she was