f sound and wide reasoning did
the active mind of Ethelberta thus find itself a solace. At about the
midnight hour she felt more fortified on the expediency of marriage with
Lord Mountclere than she had done at all since musing on it. In respect
of the second query, whether or not, in that event, to conceal from Lord
Mountclere the circumstances of her position till it should be too late
for him to object to them, she found her conscience inconveniently in the
way of her theory, and the oracle before her afforded no hint. 'Ah--it
is a point for a casuist!' she said.

An old treatise on Casuistry lay on the top shelf. She opened it--more
from curiosity than from guidance this time, it must be observed--at a
chapter bearing on her own problem, 'The disciplina arcani, or, the
doctrine of reserve.'

Here she read that there were plenty of apparent instances of this in
Scripture, and that it was formed into a recognized system in the early
Church. With reference to direct acts of deception, it was argued that
since there were confessedly cases where killing is no murder, might
there not be cases where lying is no sin? It could not be right--or,
indeed, anything but most absurd--to say in effect that no doubt
circumstances would occur where every sound man would tell a lie, and
would be a brute or a fool if he did not, and to say at the same time
that it is quite indefensible in principle. Duty was the key to conduct
then, and if in such cases duties appeared to clash they would be found
not to do so on examination. The lesser duty would yield to the greater,
and therefore ceased to be a duty.

This author she found to be not so tolerable; he distracted her. She put
him aside and gave over reading, having decided on this second point,
that she would, at any hazard, represent the truth to Lord Mountclere
before listening to another word from him. 'Well, at last I have done,'
she said, 'and am ready for my role.'

In looking back upon her past as she retired to rest, Ethelberta could
almost doubt herself to be the identical woman with her who had entered
on a romantic career a few short years ago. For that doubt she had good
reason. She had begun as a poet of the Satanic school in a sweetened
form; she was ending as a pseudo-utilitarian. Was there ever such a
transmutation effected before by the action of a hard environment? It
was not without a qualm of regret that she discerned how the last
infirmity of a no