The idea will be in his mind. He'll think it over. But
I've no hope. He won't act on it. He'll only think of it as a temptation
that he must put aside."

May did not answer.

"He could," said Lady Dashwood; "but he won't. He thinks himself
pledged. And he isn't even in love with her. He isn't even infatuated
for the moment!"

"You can't be sure."

"I am sure," said Lady Dashwood.

"How?" And now May turned back and listened for an answer with downcast
eyes.

"I asked him a question--which he refused to answer. If he were in love
he would have answered it eagerly. Why, he would have forced me to
listen to it."

May Dashwood moved away from her aunt. "Still--they are engaged," she
said. "They are engaged--that is settled."

Lady Dashwood spoke in a low, detaining voice. "Wait, May! Somehow she
has got hold of him--somehow. Often the weak victimise the strong. Those
who clamour for what they want, get it. Every day the wise are
sacrificed to fools. I know it, and yet I sleep in peace. But when Jim
is to be sacrificed--I can't sleep. I am like a withered leaf, blown by
the wind."

May took her aunt's arm and laid her cheek against her shoulder.

"How can I sleep," said Lady Dashwood, "when I think of him, worried
into the grave by petty anxieties, by the daily fretting of an
irresponsible wife, by the hopeless daily task of trying to make
something honourable and worthy--out of Belinda and Co.? When I say
Belinda and Co., I think not merely of Belinda Scott and her child, but
of all that Jim hates: the whole crew of noisy pleasure-hunters that
float upon the surface of our social life. The time may come when we
shall say to our social parasites, 'Take up your burden of life and
work!' The time _will_ come! But meanwhile Jim has to be sacrificed
because he is hopelessly just. And yet I wouldn't have him otherwise.
Go, dear, try and sleep, for all my talk." Then, as she drew away from
her niece, she said in a tense whisper: "What an unforgivable fool he
has been!"

May closed her eyes intently and said nothing.

"Oh, May," sighed Lady Dashwood, "forgive me; I feel so bitter that I
could speak against God."

May looked up and laid her hand on her aunt's arm.

"You know those lines, Aunt Lena--

"Measure thy life by loss and not by gain,
Not by the wine drunk, but the wine poured forth!"

Lady Dashwood's eyes flashed. "If Jim had offered his life for England I
could say that: but are we to pour f