other, indeed, that I have sometimes thought--but it
fortunately happens that they are related, so that in any case I cannot
go far wrong. After I have seen them again, or at least before I
propose, I shall decide definitely on this point.

"We have now advanced as far as Query IV. Now, what is to be done? Let
us consider this calmly. In the first place, have I any option in the
matter, or is love a hurricane that carries one hither and thither as
a bottle is tossed in a chopping sea? I reply that it all depends on
myself. Rosalind would say no; that we are without control over love.
But Rosalind was a woman. It is probably true that a woman cannot
conquer love. Man, being her ideal in the abstract, is irresistible to
her in the concrete. But man, being an intellectual creature, can make
a magnificent effort and cast love out. Should I think it advisable,
I do not question my ability to open the gates of my heart and bid her
go. That would be a serious thing for her; and, as man is powerful, so,
I think, should he be merciful. She has, no doubt, gained admittance,
as it were, furtively; but can I, as a gentleman, send away a weak,
confiding woman who loves me simply because she cannot help it?
Nay, more, in a pathetic case of this kind, have I not a certain
responsibility? Does not her attachment to me give her a claim upon me?
She saw me, and love came to her. She looks upon me as the noblest and
best of my sex. I do not say I am; it may be that I am not. But I have
the child's happiness in my hands; can I trample it beneath my feet? It
seems to be my plain duty to take her to me.

"But there are others to consider. For me, would it not be the better
part to show her that the greatest happiness of the greatest number
should be my first consideration? Certainly there is nothing in a man I
despise more than conceit in affairs of this sort. When I hear one of my
sex boasting of his 'conquests,' I turn from him in disgust. 'Conquest'
implies effort; and to lay one's self out for victories over the other
sex always reminds me of pigeon-shooting. On the other hand, we must
make allowances for our position of advantage. These little ones
come into contact with us; they see us, athletic, beautiful, in the
hunting-field or at the wicket; they sit beside us at dinner and listen
to our brilliant conversation. They have met us, and the mischief is
done. Every man--except, perhaps, yourself and Jimmy--knows the names
of a few dear