father had done. It was natural, perhaps, that I
should expect a little tolerance, a little friendliness, a little
recognition in return. My wife was prepared to help me. We did not ask
much. But you have treated us like outcasts. Neither you nor Mrs.
Simpson, from whom in all conscience I looked for consideration and
friendship, have as much as spoken to Mrs. Chiltern in church. You have
made it clear that, while you are willing to accept our contributions,
you cared to have nothing to do with us whatever. If I have overstated
the case, please correct me."

Mr. Simpson rose protestingly.

"My dear Hugh," he said. "This is very painful. I beg that you will spare
me."

"My name is Chiltern," answered Hugh, shortly. "Will you kindly explain,
if you can, why the town of Grenoble has ignored us?"

Israel Simpson hesitated a moment. He seemed older when he looked at
Chiltern again, and in his face commiseration and indignation were oddly
intermingled. His hand sought his watch chain.

"Yes, I will tell you," he replied slowly, "although in all my life no
crueller duty has fallen on me. It is because we in Grenoble are
old-fashioned in our views of morality, and I thank God we are so. It is
because you have married a divorced woman under circumstances that have
shocked us. The Church to which I belong, and whose teachings I respect,
does not recognize such a marriage. And you have, in my opinion,
committed an offence against society. To recognize you by social
intercourse would be to condone that offence, to open the door to
practices that would lead, in a short time, to the decay of our people."

Israel Simpson turned, and pointed a shaking forefinger at the portrait
of General Augus Chiltern.

"And I affirm here, fearlessly before you, that he, your father, would
have been the last to recognize such a marriage."

Chiltern took a step forward, and his fingers tightened.

"You will oblige me by leaving my father's name out of this discussion,"
he said.

But Israel Simpson did not recoil.

"If we learn anything by example in this world, Mr. Chiltern," he
continued, "and it is my notion that we do, I am indebted to your father
for more than my start in life. Through many years of intercourse with
him, and contemplation of his character, I have gained more than riches.
--You have forced me to say this thing. I am sorry if I have pained you.
But I should not be true to the principles to which he himself was
consist