aid that he tried to form her mind. Kitty had a
mind of her own, which did not want forming. Perhaps Percival Heron, was
right when he said that Vivian was a prig. He certainly liked to lecture
Kitty; and she used to look up at him with great, grave eyes when he was
lecturing, and pretend to understand what he was saying. She very often
did not understand a word; but Rupert never suspected that. He thought
that Kitty was a very simple-minded little person.

"There was quite an argument going on when you appeared, Mr. Vivian,"
said Mrs. Heron, languidly. "It is sometimes a most difficult matter to
decide what is right and what is wrong. I think you must decide for us."

"I am not skilled in casuistry," said Vivian, smiling. "Is Percival
giving forth some of his heresies?"

"I was never less heretical in my life," cried Percival. "State your
case, Bess; I'll give you the precedence."

Vivian turned towards the dark corner.

"It is Miss Murray's difficulty, is it?" he said, with a look of some
interest. "I shall be glad to hear it."

The girl in the dark corner stirred a little uneasily, but she spoke
with no trepidation of manner, and her voice was clear and cool.

"The question," she said, "is whether a man may write articles in a
daily paper, advocating views which are not his own, simply because they
are the views of the editor. I call it dishonesty."

"So do I," said Kitty, warmly.

"Dishonesty? Not a bit of it," rejoined Percival. "The writer is the
mouthpiece of the paper, which advocates certain views; he sinks his
individuality; he does not profess to explain his own opinions. Besides,
after all, what is dishonesty? Why should people erect honesty into such
a great virtue? It is like truth-telling and--peaches; nobody wants them
out of their proper season; they are never good when they are forced."

"I don't see any analogy between truth-telling and peaches," said the
calm voice from the corner.

"You tell the truth all the year round, don't you, Bess?" said Kitty,
with a little malice.

"But we are mortal, and don't attempt to practice exotic virtues," said
Percival, mockingly. "I see no reason why I should not flourish upon
what is called dishonesty, just as I see no reason why I should not tell
lies. It is only the diseased sensibility of modern times which condemns
either."

"Modern times?" said Vivian. "I have heard of a commandment----"

"Good Heavens!" said Percival, throwing back his handso