. Marcella
returned in a mood of contemptuous disappointment. The cast she had
desired to have was shortly sent to her as a gift, but she could take
no pleasure in it.

Still, she saw more of the Walworths and found them not illiberal.
Agatha was intelligent, and fairly well read in modern authors; no need
to conceal one's opinions in conversation with her. Marcella happened
to be spending the evening with these acquaintances whilst her brother
was having his chat at Staple Inn; on her return, she mentioned to
Christian that she had been invited to visit the Walworths in
Devonshire a few weeks hence.

'Go, by all means,' urged her brother.

'I don't think I shall. They are too respectable.'

'Nonsense! They seem very open-minded; you really can't expect absolute
unconventionality. Is it desirable? Really is it, now?--Suppose I were
to marry some day, Marcella; do you think my household would be
unconventional?'

His voice shook a little, and he kept his eyes averted. Marcella, to
whom her brother's romance was anything but an agreeable subject,--the
slight acquaintance she had with the modern Laura did not encourage her
to hope for that lady's widowhood,--gave no heed to the question.

'They are going to have a house at Budleigh Salterton; do you know of
the place? Somewhere near the mouth of the Exe. Miss Walworth tells me
that one of our old school friends is living there--Sylvia Moorhouse.
Did I ever mention Sylvia? She had gleams of sense, I remember; but no
doubt society has drilled all that out of her.'

Christian sighed.

'Why?' he urged. 'Society is getting more tolerant than you are
disposed to think. Very few well-educated people would nowadays object
to an acquaintance on speculative grounds. Some one--who was it?--was
telling me of a recent marriage between the daughter of some well-known
Church people and a man who made no secret of his agnosticism; the
parents acquiescing cheerfully. The one thing still insisted on is
decency of behaviour.'

Marcella's eyes flashed.

'How can you say that? You know quite well that most kinds of
immorality are far more readily forgiven by people of the world than
sincere heterodoxy on moral subjects.'

'Well, well, I meant decency from _their_ point of view. And there
really must be such restrictions, you know. How very few people are
capable of what you call sincere heterodoxy, in morals or religion!
Your position is unphilosophical; indeed it is. Take the w