ese men who can easily find some woman silly enough to have them, but
who prefer their own selfish ease and comfort, and then entreat
sympathy, forsooth! When women are unmarried it is rarely their own
fault."

"All this is very puzzling," drawled the Cynic. "I am groping in the
darkness with a sincere desire to find light, and no success rewards my
patient efforts. I hear that it is silliness on the women's part to
accept our offers, and still we are blamed for saving them from
themselves. No doubt you are right, but to me it seems inconsistent."

"Bother your casuistry!" replied the vicar's wife, dismissing him with
a wave of the hand. "Philip, you make me tired. What makes you sure
you are selfish, dear? I have seen no signs of it."

The question was addressed to me, and I answered: "I am beginning to
think it was selfishness that brought me here, and I am not sure that
it is not selfishness which keeps me here. At the same time I have no
wish to leave, and the question arises, Is it only the disagreeable
which is right? Is selfishness never excusable?"

"In other words," remarked the Cynic, whose eyes were closed, "is not
vice, after all, and at any rate sometimes, a modified form of virtue?"

"Listen to him!" exclaimed the vicar's wife; "the embodiment of
selfishness is about to proclaim himself the apostle of morality. The
unfettered lord of creation will expound to a slave of circumstance the
ethical order of the universe, for the instruction of her mind and the
good of her soul."

"The fact is," continued the Cynic, without heeding the interruption,
"Miss Holden, like many other sensitive people of both sexes, has a
faulty conception of what selfishness is. There are many people who
imagine that it is sinful to be happy, and a sign of grace to be
miserable, which is about as sensible as to believe that it is an
indication of good health when you are irritable and out of sorts. To
be selfish is to be careless of the interests of others, and Miss
Holden is certainly not that."

"It is good of you to say so," I said, "but I sometimes wonder if I am
not shirking duty and evading responsibility by enjoying myself here."

The squire gave my hand an affectionate squeeze, but only his eyes
spoke; and the vicar's wife turned to me.

"What brought you up here, dear? I don't think I ever knew."

"I am sure I don't," I replied, and before I had time to continue the
Cynic leaned forward and looked at