"But," Helen said slowly, "you who pretend to have so little regard for
society--"

"Ah, there it is," he interrupted. "Man is gregarious by instinct; he
must do as his fellows do. He must submit to the most absurd
_convenances_ of his fellowmen, as one sheep jumps where another
did though the bar be taken away. If he were strong enough to stand
alone he might take conventions by the throat and be a god!"

His outburst was too vehement and sudden not to come from some
underlying current of deep feeling, rather than from the present
conversation. He had risen while speaking, his head thrown back, his
eyes sparkling. His companion regarded him with admiration, not
unmixed, however, with amusement.

"And you," she said, "choose to call yourself a man without
enthusiasms."

"Yes," replied he, smiling and regaining his seat, "I am a man without
enthusiasms."

"That is the cleverest thing you ever said," Helen continued, musingly.
"And so we understand you intend to be ruled by conventionality and
marry?"

"Precisely; it would be unjust to Edith to even talk to her of my
views."

"I should hope so!" exclaimed his hostess. "But you will at least have