aughed Philip, "but that is the speech of a very young
man. Why, eliminate money, and you take away the principal interest of
life, and destroy the social fabric of the world. What is power but
money, comfort?--money, social consideration?--money, ay, and love,
and health, and happiness itself? Money, money, money. Tell me," he
went on, rising, and addressing him with a curious earnestness, "what
god is there more worthy of our adoration than Plutus, seeing that, if
we worship him enough, he alone of the idols we set in high places,
will never fail us at need?"

"It is a worship that rarely brings lasting happiness with it. In our
greed to collect the means of enjoyment, surely we lose the power to
enjoy?"

"Pshaw! that is the cant of fools, of those who do not know, of those
who cannot feel. But I know and I feel, and I tell you that it is not
so. The collection of those means is in itself a pleasure, because it
gives a consciousness of power. Don't talk to me of Fate; that
sovereign" (throwing the coin on to the table) "is Fate's own seal.
You see me, for instance, apparently poor and helpless, a social
pariah, one to be avoided, and even insulted. Good; before long these
will right all that for me. I shall by their help be powerful and
courted yet. Ay, believe me, Heigham, money is a living moving force;
leave it still, and it accumulates; expend it, and it gratifies every
wish; save it, and that is best of all, and you hold in your hand a
lever that will lift the world. I tell you that there is no height to
which it cannot bring you, no gulf it will not bridge you."

"Except," soliloquized Arthur, "the cliffs of the Hereafter, and--the
grave."

His words produced a curious effect. Philip's eloquence broke off
short, and for a moment a great fear crept into his eyes.

Silence ensued which neither of them seemed to care to break.
Meanwhile the wind suddenly sprang up, and began to moan and sigh
amongst the half-clad boughs of the trees outside--making, Arthur
thought to himself, a very melancholy music. Presently Philip laid his
hand upon his guest's arm, and he felt that it shook like an aspen-
leaf.

"Tell me," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "what do you see there?"

Arthur started, and followed the direction of his eyes to the bare
wall opposite the window, at that end of the room through which the
door was made.

"I see," he said, "some moving shadows."

"What do they resemble?"

"I don't know; nothin