cret."

"Injustice? Oh, Ella!"

"I say injustice. Good gracious, child! cannot you see that if it
becomes known that the girl who had promised to marry him has broken
off her engagement to him simply because he has written that book, the
interest that attaches to him on account of his unorthodoxy will be
immeasurably increased?"

"I will not do him the injustice of fancying for a moment that he would
be gratified on this account. Whatever he may be, Ella, he is at least
sincere and single-minded in his aims."

"I have no doubt of it, my only joy. But however sincere a man may be in
his aims, he still cannot reasonably object to the distinction that is
thrust upon him when he has done something out of the common. The men
who make books know that that sort of thing pays. Someone told me the
other day--I believe it was Herbert Courtland--that it is the men
who write books embodying a great and noble aim who make the closest
bargains with their publishers. I heard of a great and good clergyman
the other day who wrote a Life of Christ, and then complained in the
papers of his publishers having only given him a miserable percentage on
the profits. That is how they talk nowadays; the profit resulting from
the Life of Christ is to be measured in pounds, shillings, and pence."

"Mr. Holland is not a man of this stamp, Ella."

"I'm sure he is not. At the same time if he isn't prosecuted for
heterodoxy no one will be more disappointed than Mr. Holland, unless,
indeed, it be Mr. Holland's publisher. Who would begrudge the martyr his
halo, dear? Even the most sincere and single-minded martyr has an eye
on that halo. The halo of the up-to-date martyr is made up of afternoon
teas provided by fair women, and full-page portraits in the illustrated
papers."

"And all this leads to--what?"

"It leads to--let me see--oh, yes, it leads to your appearance at my
little gathering. Of course, you'll come. Believe me, you'll not feel
the least uncomfortable. You will be The Girl who Sacrificed her Love
for Conscience' Sake. That's a good enough qualification for distinction
on the part of any girl in these hard times. But I might have known long
ago that you would play this part. That sweetly pathetic voice, with
that firm mouth and those lovely soft gray eyes that would seem to a
casual observer to neutralize the firmness of the mouth. Oh, yes, my
Phyllis, you have undoubtedly _la physionomie du role_."

"What _role_?"

"The _role_