support to the fraud of "The Vital Thing"; but the temptation to
free himself from Mrs. Linyard prevailed over his last scruples, and
within an hour he was at work on the Scientific Sermons.

The Professor was not an unkind man. He really enjoyed making his
family happy; and it was his own business if his reward for so doing
was that it kept them out of his way. But the success of "The Vital
Thing" gave him more than this negative satisfaction. It enlarged
his own existence and opened new doors into other lives. The
Professor, during fifty virtuous years, had been cognizant of only
two types of women: the fond and foolish, whom one married, and the
earnest and intellectual, whom one did not. Of the two, he
infinitely preferred the former, even for conversational purposes.
But as a social instrument woman was unknown to him; and it was not
till he was drawn into the world on the tide of his literary success
that he discovered the deficiencies in his classification of the
sex. Then he learned with astonishment of the existence of a third
type: the woman who is fond without foolishness and intellectual
without earnestness. Not that the Professor inspired, or sought to
inspire, sentimental emotions; but he expanded in the warm
atmosphere of personal interest which some of his new acquaintances
contrived to create about him. It was delightful to talk of serious
things in a setting of frivolity, and to be personal without being
domestic.

Even in this new world, where all subjects were touched on lightly,
and emphasis was the only indelicacy, the Professor found himself
constrained to endure an occasional reference to his book. It was
unpleasant at first; but gradually he slipped into the habit of
hearing it talked of, and grew accustomed to telling pretty women