"I'll try to prevent that misfortune," he answered gloomily. "But if
she learns to love a man worthy of her, I shall take myself out of her
way forever. Let us stand together, Baron Ned, and help this girl to
happiness for life, without respect to myself. You see I'm not all bad.
In truth, I am becoming self-righteous. I have left the ranks of the
publicans and sinners and have become a Pharisee. I tell you, Baron Ned,
nothing so swells a man in the chest as the belief that he is not as
other men are."

His righteousness, at least, was not devoid of bitterness, and it is
possible that a part of his aversion to his former friends and to the
king grew out of his jealousy of them for Frances's sake.

"There is no good reason why you should allow your righteousness to
become offensive, as that of the ranter, who hates rather than pities
iniquity because, in his opinion, God is a God of vengeance," I suggested
ironically. "But rather let your virtues grow as the rose unfolds and--"

"Oh, be damned to your raillery! I'm not going to be too decent!" he
retorted, finding nothing to amuse him in my remark. Nor did he become
too decent, as will appear all too soon.

If, for a time, Hamilton's life did not conform to our desires, we must
not condemn him too harshly, for the evil which we try to throw off
clings like a bur, while the good we would keep must be tied on. Thus
much I say in anticipation. In the end he gained the battle with himself,
though his victory won him the king's hatred, put his life in jeopardy,
and brought him misfortune such as he had never before known.