FicialReceiverswithflamingswordstodriveusoutofourgarden！I’dhopedwe’dneverhaveanotherTrek。Well——anyway，itwon’tbeCrestHill。Butit’shardonTeddy。Hemustbeinsuchamessupthere。Pooroldchap。Isupposewecan’thelphim。Isupposewe’donlyworryhim。HavesomemoresoupGeorge——whilethereissome？。”
Thenextdaywasoneofthosedaysofstrongperceptionthatstandoutclearinone’smemorywhenthecommoncourseofdaysisblurred。Icanrecallnowtheawakeninginthelargefamiliarroomthatwasalwayskeptforme，andhowIlaystaringatitschintz-coveredchairs，itsspacedfinefurniture，itsglimpseofthecedarswithout，andthoughtthatallthishadtoend。
Ihaveneverbeengreedyformoney，Ihaveneverwantedtoberich，butIfeltnowanimmensesenseofimpendingdeprivation。
Ireadthenewspapersafterbreakfast——Iandmyaunttogether——andthenIwalkeduptoseewhatCothopehaddoneinthematterofLordRobertsB。NeverbeforehadIappreciatedsoacutelytheamplebrightnessoftheLadyGrovegardens，thedignityandwidepeaceofallaboutme。ItwasoneofthosewarmmorningsinlateMaythathavewonallthegloryofsummerwithoutlosingthegaydelicacyofspring。Theshrubberywasbrightwithlaburnumandlilac，thebedsswarmedwithdaffodilsandnarcissiandwithliliesofthevalleyintheshade。
Iwentalongthewell-keptpathsamongtherhododendraandthroughtheprivategateintothewoodswherethebluebellsandcommonorchidwereinprofusion。NeverbeforehadItastedsocompletelythefinesenseofprivilegeandownership。Andallthishastoend，Itoldmyself，allthishastoend。
NeithermyunclenorIhadmadeanyprovisionfordisaster；allwehadwasinthegame，andIhadlittledoubtnowofthecompletenessofourruin。ForthefirsttimeinmylifesincehehadsentmethatwonderfultelegramofhisIhadtoconsiderthatcommonanxietyofmankind，——Employment。Ihadtocomeoffmymagiccarpetandwalkoncemoreintheworld。
AndsuddenlyIfoundmyselfatthecrossdriveswhereIhadseenBeatriceforthefirsttimeaftersomanyyears。Itisstrange，butsofarasIcanrecollectIhadnotthoughtofheroncesinceIhadlandedatPlymouth。Nodoubtshehadfilledthebackgroundofmymind，butIdonotrememberonedefinite，clearthought。I
hadbeenintentonmyuncleandthefinancialcollapse。
Itcamelikeablowinthefacenow；allthat，too，hadtoend！
SuddenlyIwasfilledwiththethoughtofherandagreatlongingforher。Whatwouldshedowhensherealisedourimmensedisaster？Whatwouldshedo？Howwouldshetakeit？ItfilledmewithastonishmenttorealisehowlittleIcouldtell。
ShouldIperhapspresentlyhappenuponher？
Iwentonthroughtheplantationsandoutuponthedowns，andthenceIsawCothopewithanewgliderofhisowndesignsoaringdownwindtomyoldfamiliar“grounding“place。Tojudgebyitslongrhythmitwasaverygoodglider。“LikeCothope’scheek。”
thoughtI，“togoonwiththeresearch。Iwonderifhe’skeepingnotes。Butallthiswillhavetostop。”
Hewassincerelygladtoseeme。“It’sbeenarumgo。”hesaid。
Hehadbeentherewithoutwagesforamonth，amanforgottenintherushofevents。
“IjuststuckonanddidwhatIcouldwiththestuff。Igotabitofmoneyofmyown——andIsaidtomyself，’Well，hereyouarewiththegearandnoonetolookafteryou。Youwon’tgetsuchachanceagain，myboy，notinallyourborndays。Whynotmakewhatyoucanwithit？’“
“How’sLordRobertsB？”
Cothopeliftedhiseyebrows。“I’vehadtorefrain。”hesaid。
“Buthe’slookingveryhandsome。”
“Gods！”Isaid，“I’dliketogethimupjustoncebeforewesmash。Youreadthepapers？Youknowwe’regoingtosmash？”
“Oh！Ireadthepapers。It’sscandalous，sir，suchworkasoursshoulddependonthingslikethat。YouandIoughttobeundertheState，sir，ifyou’llexcuseme“
“Nothingtoexcuse。”Isaid。“I’vealwaysbeenaSocialist——ofasort——intheory。Let’sgoandhavealookathim。Howishe？
Deflated？”
“Justaboutquarterfull。Thatlastoilglazeofyoursholdsthegassomethingbeautiful。He’snotlostacubicmetreaweek。”。
CothopereturnedtoSocialismaswewenttowardthesheds。
“Gladtothinkyou’reaSocialist，sir。”hesaid，“it’stheonlycivilisedstate。IbeenaSocialistsomeyears——offtheClarion。It’sarottenscramble，thisworld。Ittakesthethingswemakeandinventanditplaysthesillyfoolwith’em。
Wescientificpeople，we’llhavetotakethingsoverandstopallthisfinancingandadvertisementandthat。It’stoosilly。
It’sanoosance。Lookatus！”
LordRobertsB，eveninhispartiallydeflatedconditioninhisshed，wasafinethingtostareupat。IstoodsidebysidewithCothoperegardinghim，anditwasborneinuponmemoreacutelythaneverthatallthishadtoend。Ihadafeelingjustlikethefeelingofaboywhowantstodowrong，thatIwoulduseupthestuffwhileIhaditbeforethecreditorsdescended。Ihadaqueerfancy，too，Iremember，thatifIcouldgetintotheairitwouldadvertisemyreturntoBeatrice。
“We’llfillher。”Isaidconcisely。
“It’sallready。”saidCothope，andaddedasanafterthought，“unlesstheycutoffthegas。”。
IworkedandinterestedmyselfwithCothopeallthemorningandforatimeforgotmyothertroubles。ButthethoughtofBeatricefloodedmeslowlyandsteadily。Itbecameanunintelligentsicklongingtoseeher。IfeltthatIcouldnotwaitforthefillingofLordRobertsB，thatImusthuntherupandseehersoon。I
goteverythingforwardandlunchedwithCothope，andthenwiththefeeblestexcuseslefthiminordertoprowldownthroughthewoodstowardsBedleyCorner。Ibecameapreytowretchedhesitationsanddiffidence。OughtItogonearhernow？Iaskedmyself，reviewingallthesocialabasementsofmyearlyyears。
Atlast，aboutfive，IcalledattheDowerHouse。IwasgreetedbytheirCharlotte——withaforbiddingeyeandacoldastonishment。
BothBeatriceandLadyOspreywereout。
Therecameintomyheadsomeprowlingdreamofmeetingher。I
wentalongthelanetowardsWoking，thelanedownwhichwehadwalkedfivemonthsagointhewindandrain。
Imoonedforatimeinourformerfootsteps，thensworeandturnedbackacrossthefields，andthenconceivedadistasteforCothopeandwentDownward。AtlastIfoundmyselflookingdownonthehugeabandonedmassesoftheCrestHillhouse。
Thatgavemymindatwistintoanewchannel。Myunclecameuppermostagain。Whatastrange，melancholyemptinessofintentionthatstrickenenterpriseseemedintheeveneveningsunlight，whatvulgarmagnificenceandcrudityandutterabsurdity！Itwasasidioticasthepyramids。Isatdownonthestile，staringatitasthoughIhadneverseenthatforestofscaffoldpoles，thatwasteofwallsandbricksandplasterandshapedstones，thatwildernessofbrokensoilandwheelingtracksanddumpsbefore。ItstruckmesuddenlyasthecompactestimageandsampleofallthatpassesforProgress，ofalltheadvertisement-inflatedspending，theaimlessbuildingupandpullingdown，theenterpriseandpromiseofmyage。Thiswasourfruit，thiswaswhathehaddone，Iandmyuncle，inthefashionofourtime。Wewereitsleadersandexponents，wewerethethingitmostflourishinglyproduced。Forthisfutilityinitsend，foranepochofsuchfutility，thesolemnscrollofhistoryhadunfolded。
“GreatGod！”Icried，“butisthisLife？”
Forthisthearmiesdrilled，forthistheLawwasadministeredandtheprisonsdidtheirduty，forthisthemillionstoiledandperishedinsuffering，inorderthatafewofusshouldbuildpalacesweneverfinished，makebilliard-roomsunderponds，runimbecilewallsroundirrationalestates，scorchabouttheworldinmotor-cars，deviseflying-machines，playgolfandadozensuchfoolishgamesofball，crowdintochatteringdinnerparties，gambleandmakeourlivesonevast，dismalspectacleofwitlesswaste！Soitstruckmethen，andforatimeIcouldthinkofnootherinterpretation。ThiswasLife！Itcametomelikearevelation，arevelationatonceincredibleandindisputableoftheabysmalfollyofourbeing。