Miss Milton drew herself up very straight.
“I do not bribe,” she said. “What I distribute is pamphlets.”
Now I suppose that “pamphlets” and “blankets don’t really sound much
alike, but I was agitated.
“Quite right,” said I. “Poor old things! They can’t afford proper fuel.”
She rose to her feet.
“I was not joking,” she said with horrible severity.
“Neither was I,” I declared in humble apology. “Didn’t you say
blankets?’”
“Pamphlets.”
“Oh!”
There was a long pause. I glanced at Mrs. Hilary. Things had not fallen
out as happily as they might, but I did not mean to give up yet.
“I see you’re right,” I said, still humbly. “To descend to such means as
I had in my mind is--”
“To throw away our true weapons,” said she earnestly. (She sat down
again--good sign.)
“What we really need--” I began.
“Is a reform of the upper classes,” said she.
“Let them give an example of duty, of self-denial, of frugality.”