that I want to marry quite so much innocence."

"She is conscience incarnate," his mother uttered, perfervidly.
"You could put your very soul in her keeping."

"Then you would be out of a job, mother."

"Oh, I am not worthy of the job, my dear. I have always felt that. I am
too complex, and sometimes I can't see the right alone, as she could."

Philip was silent a moment while he lost the personal point of view.
"I suspect we don't see the right when we see it alone. We ought to see
the wrong, too."

"Ah, Philip, don't let your fancy go after that girl!"

"Miss Andrews? I thought--"

"Don't you be complex, my dear. You know I mean Miss Shirley. What has
become of her, I wonder. I heard Miss Andrews asking you."

"I wasn't able to tell her. Do you want me to try telling you?"

"I would rather you never could."

Philip laughed sardonically. "Now, I shall forget Thursdays and all the
other days, too. You are a very unwise parent, mother."

They laughed with each other at each other, and treated her enthusiasm
for Miss Andrews as the joke it partly was. Mrs. Verrian did not follow