es know only honour and courage."

"I say she is mad."

"You have taunted me till my blood is up; you have worried me till I
turn again."

"That Moore is the brother of my son's tutor. Would you let the usher
call you sister?"

Bright and broad shone Shirley's eye as she fixed it on her questioner
now.

"No, no; not for a province of possession, not for a century of life."

"You cannot separate the husband from his family."

"What then?"

"Mr. Louis Moore's sister you will be."

"Mr. Sympson, I am sick at heart with all this weak trash; I will bear
no more. Your thoughts are not my thoughts, your aims are not my aims,
your gods are not my gods. We do not view things in the same light; we
do not measure them by the same standard; we hardly speak in the same
tongue. Let us part."

"It is not," she resumed, much excited--"it is not that I hate you; you
are a good sort of man. Perhaps you mean well in your way. But we cannot
suit; we are ever at variance. You annoy me with small meddling, with
petty tyranny; you exasperate my temper, and make and keep me
passionate. As to your small maxims, your narrow rules, your little
prejudices, aversions, dogmas, bundle them off. Mr. Sympson, go, offer
them a sacrifice to the deity you worship; I'll none of them. I wash my
hands of the lot. I walk by another creed, light, faith, and hope than
you."

"Another creed! I believe she is an infidel."

"An infidel to _your_ religion, an atheist to _your_ god."

"_An--atheist!!!_"

"Your god, sir, is the world. In my eyes you too, if not an infidel, are
an idolater. I conceive that you ignorantly worship; in all things you
appear to me too superstitious. Sir, your god, your great Bel, your
fish-tailed Dagon, rises before me as a demon. You, and such as you,
have raised him to a throne, put on him a crown, given him a sceptre.
Behold how hideously he governs! See him busied at the work he likes
best--making marriages. He binds the young to the old, the strong to the
imbecile. He stretches out the arm of Mezentius, and fetters the dead to
the living. In his realm there is hatred--secret hatred; there is
disgust--unspoken disgust; there is treachery--family treachery; there
is vice--deep, deadly domestic vice. In his dominions children grow
unloving between parents who have never loved; infants are nursed on
deception from their very birth; they are reared in an atmosphere
corrupt with lies. Your god rules at the bridal of king