himself with more than his usual
cynicism.

Something had been said about the growing spirit of brotherhood, when
she broke in:

"Bah! don't talk to me about your altruism or any other 'ism. In these
days you men make high-sounding phrases take the place of principle.
If I know anything of the meaning of words altruism is the very
opposite of selfishness--and who is more selfish than your bachelor?"

The Cynic blew a thin column of smoke towards the ceiling and spoke
languidly:

"Stevenson says--I mean R. L., of course--that if you wish the pick of
men and women you must take a good bachelor and a good wife."

"Stuff and nonsense!" replied the vicar's wife; "if there were such a
thing as a good bachelor I should say that he got amongst the pick of
men only when he took to himself a good wife. But who ever yet saw or
knew a 'good' bachelor? It's a contradiction of terms. Mind you, I
don't call boys bachelors; bachelors are men who might be married if
they would, but they won't. Good men are unselfish, and bachelors are
brazenly self-centred, and usually unbearably conceited. And you are
as bad as any of them, Philip."

"Veritatis simplex oratio est," muttered the Cynic.

"Didn't I say so?" ejaculated the vicar's wife triumphantly. "It is a
sure sign of conceit when a man hurls a bit of school Latin at his
ignorant opponent and so scores a paltry advantage." She pursed her
lips in scorn.

"I beg your pardon," replied the Cynic calmly;. "I got the quotation
from a cyclopaedia, but I will substitute a line from an English poet
which accurately expresses the same meaning:

"'How sweet the words of truth, breathed from the lips of love!'

But is there no excuse for me and others in like case? Are we
unmarried men sinners above all the rest? Granted that we are selfish,
conceited, corrupt and vile, is there yet no place for us in the
universe? no lonely corner in the vineyard where we can work with
profit to the State?"

"I suppose you think you work 'with profit to the State,'" returned the
vicar's wife with a curl of the lip, "when you persuade one of His
Majesty's judges to send some poor wretch to gaol, where he will be
provided for at the country's expense whilst his wife and children are
left to starve. You would be of far more use to it, let me tell you,
if you became the father of a family and----"

The Cynic held up his hand: "The prey of some conceited bachelor who
should wickedly persua