ou two do not seem to have been amusing yourselves," Lady Caroom
remarked, giving her hand to Brooks.

"Mr. Brooks has been answering some of my questions about the poor
people," Sybil answered, "and it is not an amusing subject."

Lord Arranmore laughed lightly, and there was a touch of scorn in the
slight curve of his fine lips and his raised eyebrows. He stood away
from the shaded lamplight before a great open fire of cedar logs, and
the red glow falling fitfully upon his face seemed to Brooks, watching
him with more than usual closeness, to give him something of a
Mephistopheles aspect. His evening clothes hung with more than ordinary
precision about his long slim body, his black tie and black pearl stud
supplied the touch of sombreness so aptly in keeping with the mirthless,
bitter smile which still parted his lips.

"You must not take Mr. Brooks too seriously on the subject of the poor
people," he said, the mockery of his smile well matched in his tone.
"Brooks is an enthusiast--one, I am afraid, of those misguided people
who have barred the way to progress for centuries. If only they could
be converted!"

Lady Caroom sighed.

"Oh, dear, how enigmatic!" she exclaimed. "Do be a little more
explicit."

"Dear lady," he continued, turning to her, "it is not worth while. Yet
I sometimes wonder whether people realize how much harm this hysterical
philanthropy--this purely sentimental faddism, does; how it retards the
natural advance of civilization, throws dust in people's eyes, salves
the easy conscience of the rich man, who bargains for immortality with a
few strokes of the pen, and finds mischievous occupation for a good many
weak minds and parasitical females. Believe me, that all personal
charity is a mistake. It is a good deal worse than that. It is a
crime."

Sybil rose up, and a little unusual flush had stained her cheeks.

"I still do not understand you in the least, Lord Arranmore," she said.
"It seems to me that you are making paradoxical and ridiculous
statements, which only bewilder us. Why is charity a crime? That is
what I should like to hear you explain."

Lord Arranmore bowed slightly.

"I had no idea," he said, leaning his elbow upon the mantelpiece, "that
I was going to be inveigled into a controversy. But, my dear Sybil, I
will do my best to explain to you what I mean, especially as at your age
you are not likely to discover the truth for yourself. In the first
place, charity of any sort