it, of which I felt distinctly proud. In the course of the discussion to
which this book gave rise among us, my brother mentioned that I had
written something on it, and Hughes begged me to read my performance.
Though I felt somewhat diffident, I acceded, after some persuasion, to his
request, and was elated beyond measure at earning his good opinion of my
effort.

"By George, that's about the best criticism I've read of the work. Where
do you intend publishing it, Miss Meredith?"

"Oh, I had never thought of publishing it," I replied; "I have never
published anything."

"But we cannot afford to lose such good stuff," he insisted. "Come,
Raymond, now, don't you think your sister ought to get that into print?"

"I think you should publish it, Isabel, if you could," he replied.

"Could! Why any of our papers would be only too delighted to have it. Let
me take it down to the _Democrat_," he said, mentioning the name of a
paper which Raymond often brought home with him.

"Oh, if you really think it worth while, I shall be only too pleased," I
replied.

Thus was effected my first introduction to the actual Socialist party. My
article was printed and I was asked for others. I made the acquaintance of
the editor, who, I must confess, spite of my enthusiasm, soon struck me as
a rather weak-kneed and altogether unadmirable character. He thought it
necessary to get himself up to look like an artist, though he had not the