We had long since left the business streets of the city behind, and had come, first through a district of mean-looking houses occupied chiefly, as Perry told me, by the aristocrats of Culbut, then through a more spacious suburb of large and small villas, where he said those of a decent degree of poverty resided. The tram-line had borne us company to the edge of this quarter, and we had walked for the best part of a mile along a country road, bordered by walls or fences enclosing the gardens of larger houses.

We now turned in at a pair of gates flanked by a pretty lodge, and went along a winding drive banked on either side with rhododendrons, now in full flower, until we came out into a beautiful and open garden, whose verdant lawns were ringed by a great variety of flowering shrubs and trees. This charming garden seemed a suitable setting for the long two-storied white-painted house, with its deep eaves, old-fashioned bow windows, and creeper-grown verandah. A giant magnolia, delicately flushed with pink, was in full flower over the front of the house. The still summer air brooded peacefully over all, and the tinkle of water from a fountain in a yew-enclosed rose-garden opening out of the drive fell gratefully on the ear.

"And this," I exclaimed, "your educated classes despise, and prefer to coop themselves up in those wretched little houses we passed!"

He looked at me in surprise. "Oh, you don't understand in the least," he said.

There was no time for further explanation, for we had now reached the front door, which stood hospitably open, affording a glimpse beyond the lobby of a cool spacious hall, paved with black and white marble.

We did not, however, enter at once. Perry rang the bell, and we waited until a butler and a footman in livery[9] appeared, who relieved us of the parcels we carried and showed us into a pleasant morning-room, beautifully furnished and full of flowers.

"Mr. John Howard and Mr. Edward Perry," said my friend to the butler, and we were left to ourselves.

"Excuse my asking," I said, "but do you have to observe strict formalities in your own house?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "No good servants would engage us unless we undertook to give them plenty of work. It is one of the many penalties of wealth."

At this point Mr. Perry came into the room, dressed as I had first seen him, and having shaved since we had parted. He renewed his welcome warmly, and introduced me to his wife, a comely grey-haired lady with agreeable manners, who said that she was delighted to see me, and to hear that I was ready to take them as I found them. I was also introduced to Miss Miriam Perry, whom I took to at once, as she was exceptionally pretty, and had a very frank and pleasing way with her. There was also a younger sister, Mollie, a pretty child of thirteen or so, and Tom, a boy of about a year older, who alone of the family was dressed in old and shabby clothes. But he had a merry freckled face and excellent manners.

"Here," said Mr. Perry, "you see us all, except my married daughter; and I hope you will like us."

I liked them already, with one exception, and I thought it possible that I might even come to like Mr. Perry himself in time, for he showed to better advantage surrounded by his family and in his own beautiful home than he had done outside.

"Mr. Howard," said Edward, "wants to live as we do while he is with us, and to study the conditions of wealth from the inside. He has even bought a great many clothes, and perhaps he would like to put some of them on before luncheon."

This announcement, I could see, brought gratification to my hosts, but Tom looked rather disgusted. He was being educated at a day school, I learnt afterwards, where many of his companions were the sons of very poor men, and he was not yet of an age to sympathise deeply with the family taste for philanthropy.

Edward took me up to my room, and apologised for its air of comfort. The footman was unpacking the parcels we had brought, and it was possibly for his benefit that Edward said: "We keep one or two barely furnished attics for people like yourself who come to see us; but I thought that as you wanted to live for a time as the rich do, you would put up with this. We can always move you."

I said that certainly under the circumstances I preferred this room to an attic. It had a wide view of the largest slope of lawn and a well-wooded landscape beyond. There was a big bed in it, a well-furnished writing-table, and an easy chair by the window, through which the open flowers of the magnolia outside wafted a sweet perfume.

"Well then, I will go and change my clothes," said Edward. "Lord Arthur will show you the bathroom, and where my room is, if you want to come in to me at any time."

He went out, and I took a closer look at the footman, who seemed to have been indicated as Lord Arthur.

He was a handsome, rather disdainful-looking young man, and when Edward had left the room he said familiarly: "Then you're one of us, eh? Why do you want to rig yourself out in this sort of kit! Which will you wear? I should recommend the white flannel, if you want to do the thing thoroughly."

"The white flannel will do very well," I said. "I am studying social conditions, and, as you say, want to do it thoroughly."

"Well, I think you're rather a fool," he said. "You can see all you want of the rich by taking service with them as I have done. You needn't live like them."

"I rather like making myself comfortable," I said tentatively.

His lip curled. "Is your mind comfortable when your body is comfortable?" he asked.

"It is more likely to be so," I replied.

"There are a good many people with low tastes in the world," he said, "but they don't generally acknowledge them in that unblushing way. If you want a life of comfort because you like it, why don't you say so? You'll find plenty of swabs[10] in your own class to join in with, who don't pretend to be social students."

"I was only chaffing," I said. "Have you got a good place here?"

"Well, it's rather a bore to have to mix socially with your employers, although the Perrys are very nice people really, and if it weren't for all this philanthropic nonsense as good as anybody. Still, you can't treat them exactly as you would other rich people, and we often have to do ourselves a good deal better than we want to in the servants' hall, simply because we can't foist all the best food on to them and see that they get through it themselves. We're really helping them all the time in their silly experiment, and although the between maid and the head coachman and one or two more are reformers, most of us aren't, and simply want to be let alone to live a hard life, as we should anywhere else."

"Yes, I see. I suppose most of you are of good family and that sort of thing?"

"One of the undergardeners is a baronet, but he's got more hard work to do than you can get indoors. I'm the only other fellow with a title, but I was never very strong. All my brothers are navvies, and it's hard luck that I was pilled in my medical examination. Oh, yes, we're a pretty good lot on the whole. Still, domestic service isn't what it used to be. It is so crowded as a profession that it's difficult to get a place where there's enough work to do. The women are better off, because they can go out as generals. But for men it is getting more and more difficult, owing to the spread of education amongst the lower classes. The masters and mistresses are often so independent that if you don't let them live as poorly as you do yourselves they'll just give you notice. Well, I think that's all. The bathroom is just opposite. I'll go and turn on the water."

"Thanks," I said. "Quite cold, please."

An indulgent smile illumined Lord Arthur's aristocratic features. "It's plain that you've never learnt how to treat servants," he said. "If you weren't a gentleman, I should turn you on a stewing hot one for that, and see that you got into it."