“Can you blame them? They are the product of a corrupt society. No one can blame them, whatever they are or do. The dunghill cannot bring forth the rose. Your service has debased them. The fault of their debasement lies with you.” “But Critchett cannot be debased. He must, living in so rarefied a moral atmosphere, be elevated above all mortal weaknesses.” Bertram replies stiffly: “I can assure you I have much more respect for Critchett than for any member of a St. James’ Street club.” “And yet you give him carrot fritters!” cried Lady Southwold. Bertram replies with great irritation: “He eats whatever he pleases, turtle and turbot for aught I know. I should never presume to impose upon him either my menu or my tenets, my beliefs or my principles.” “You do wisely if you wish to keep him!” says his aunt. “I hope you _will_ keep him. He is your only link with civilised life.” Bertram smiles. “My dear aunt, when I was in the South Pacific I landed at a small island where civilisation was considered to consist in a pierced nose and a swollen belly. I do not want to be offensive, but the estimate which my age takes of its own civilisation is not very much more sensible.” “I think it would have been better, Wilfrid, to study psychology under these savages than to publish the _Age to Come_! You could not have injured _them_, but here----” “How illiberal you are, dear Lady Southwold,” says Cicely Seymour. “You want a course of Montaigne.” “What’s that, Miss Seymour?” asks Marlow. “A rival to Mariani wine?” “Yes, a French wine; very old and quite unequalled!” Even Bertram laughs. Marlow is irritated. He does not see what he has said which is so absurd, or why his friends are laughing. “Why do you always take that prig’s part?” he mutters, sullenly, aside to Cicely Seymour. “I do not take any one’s part,” replies the young lady; “but I detest injustice and illiberality.” At this moment the old duke rises with Bertram’s help, is assisted by him to find his hat and stick, and takes his departure, assuring his godson that he had been much entertained. Following the duke’s example every one takes their leave, assuring their instructor that they have derived much entertainment and information from his disquisition. Cicely Seymour says simply and very gently: “Thanks, Mr. Bertram. You have made me your debtor for many noble thoughts.” When they have left him Bertram walks up and down his rooms dissatisfied with himself.