Have we any right to expect so much, or fear so much," said the Warden,
"from the circumstances of life?"

May turned her head away and said nothing.

"Why demand that life shall be made so easy?" Here he paused again.
"Some of us," he went on, "want to be converted, in the Evangelical
sense; in other words, some of us want to be given a sudden inspiring
illumination, an irresistible motive for living the good life, a motive
that will make virtue easy."

May looked down into the fire and waited for him to go on.

"Some of us demand a love that will make marriage easy, smooth for our
temper, flattering to our vanity. Some demand"--and here there was a
touch of passion in his voice that made May's heart heavy and
sick--"they demand that it should be made easy to be faithful."

And she gave no answer.

"Isn't it our business to accept the circumstances of life, love among
them, and refuse either to be shaped by them or shattered by them? But
you will accuse me of being hyper-critical at a tea-party, of arguing
on ethics when I should have been thinking of--of nothing particular."

This was his Apologia. After this there would be silence. He would be
Gwendolen's husband. May tried to gather up all her self-possession.

"You don't agree with me?" he asked to break her obstinate silence.

She could hear Robinson coming in. He put up the lights, and out of the
obscurity flashed the face of the portrait almost to the point of
speech.

"Do you mean that one ought and can live in marriage without help and
without sympathy?" she asked, and her voice trembled a little.

He answered, "I mean that. May I quote you lines that you probably know,
lines of a more strenuous character than that line from 'Becket.'" And
he quoted--

"'For even the purest delight may pall,
And power must fail, and the pride must fall,
And the love of the dearest friends grow small,
But the glory of the Lord is all in all.'"

They could hear the swish of the heavy curtains as Robinson pulled them
over the windows.

"And yet----" she said. Here a queer spasm came in her throat. She was
moving towards the open door, for she felt that she could not bear to
hear any more. He followed her.

"And yet----?" he persisted.

"I only mean," she said, and she compelled her voice to be steady, "what
is the glory of the Lord? Is it anything but love--love of other
people?"

She went through the open door slowly and turned to the shallo