just as much as the sculptor shapes his statue, or the poet turns his
poem. You don't deny to the sculptor the right to smash his statue if it
does not please him, nor to the poet the right to burn his
manuscript;--why should you deny me the right to dispose of my life? I
know--I know," said he, seeing Lefevre open his mouth and raise his hand
for another observation, "that your opinion is the common one, but that
is the only sanction it has; it has the sanction neither of true
morality nor of true religion! But here is the waiter to tell you the
carriage is come. I'm glad. Let us get out into the air and the
sunshine."

The carriage was the doctor's own; his mother, although the widow of a
Court physician, was too poor to maintain much equipage, but she made
what use she pleased of her son's possessions. When Lady Lefevre saw
Julius at the carriage-door, she broke into smiles and cries of welcome.

"Where have you been this long, long while, Julius?" said she. "This is
Julius Courtney, Nora. You remember Nora, Julius, when she was a little
girl in frocks?"

"She now wears remarkable gowns," chimed in the doctor.

"Which," said Julius, "I have no doubt are becoming."

"My brother," said Nora, with a sunny smile, "is jealous; because, being
a doctor, he must wear only dowdy clothes of dingy colours."

"We have finished at school and college, and been presented at Court,"
laughed Lady Lefevre.