deal. You see, Minnie, we are born to pursue happiness. You allow that."

"Yes,--I suppose so," said Minnie.

"Well, then, if I look at the wrong thing, and call it happiness, it is
my mistake, and I only shall pay for it. You find your happiness in an
active life and works of mercy. Very well, do so. You devote a certain
part of your income, small as it is, to that sort of pleasure. I devote
mine to my pleasures. They are different from yours. You might call them
selfish. What then? So are yours. I don't say you are not modest and
humble, and all that; but you do enjoy your old women, and your fussy
charity-schools. Very well. That is all I do with my drawing, my
lounging, my smoking, my reading. And I think, Minnie," added Fred,
laughing, "I have the added grace of humility; for I am far from making
a merit of my sort of life."

"No,--it would be difficult to make a merit of it," said Minnie.

That was clear enough. Fred loved to have her for an auditor. So long as
she could not see over him, he was as good as infinite to her.

"In the first place, Minnie, you must allow, it is a duty to surround
ourselves with the beautiful in all things. It conduces to the highest
self-culture; and self-culture is our first duty."

"Is it? Surely, it cannot be! Oh, you mean we ought rather to attend to
our own faults than those of others?"

"I mean as I say. Self-culture is our first duty, both moral and
intellectual. I might add, also, that to take care of Number One is a