from his allegiance to the church into which he had been born.
But his equilibrium was personal, and the secret of it useless to
others. He desired that each man should find his own.

"What does philosophy do?" the propper continued. "Does it make
a man happier in life? Does it make him die more peacefully? I
fancy that in the long-run Herbert Spencer will get no further
than the rest of us. Ah, Rickie! I wish you could move among the
school boys, and see their healthy contempt for all they cannot
touch!" Here he was going too far, and had to add, "Their
spiritual capacities, of course, are another matter." Then he
remembered the Greeks, and said, "Which proves my original
statement."

Submissive signs, as of one propped, appeared in Rickie's face.
Mr. Pembroke then questioned him about the men who found Plato
not difficult. But here he kept silence, patting the school
chapel gently, and presently the conversation turned to topics
with which they were both more competent to deal.

"Does Agnes take much interest in the school?"

"Not as much as she did. It is the result of her engagement. If
our naughty soldier had not carried her off, she might have made
an ideal schoolmaster's wife. I often chaff him about it, for he
a little despises the intellectual professions. Natural,
perfectly natural. How can a man who faces death feel as we do
towards mensa or tupto?"

"Perfectly true. Absolutely true."