Gerald smiled sweetly, and Owen moved away from him, an expression on his face of mingled contempt and disgust, which, had I not been so miserable, I should have found highly comic. There was nothing, I knew, irritated him more than this kind of talk, which Gerald manufactured with extreme ingenuity, principally for Owen’s benefit. For Owen’s sake he would talk in a world-weary fashion of the “colour” of life, and ever since he had discovered that the word “Philistine” was peculiarly exasperating, it had figured more frequently than any other in his conversation. He dragged it in at every turn, nearly always with absolute irrelevancy. He began to talk of Philistines now, à propos of some concert at which he declared he had been asked to play――a concert he had probably invented for the occasion. Owen stood with his back against the chimney-piece, his eyes bright, his cheeks red. “There is one class, at any rate, that is a good deal more disgusting than your Philistines――the people who imagine themselves superior to them.” But Gerald could keep perfectly cool. “These people you mention,” he began in his most elaborate manner, “I strongly suspect to be only the commanders of the Philistine hosts――their Tolstoys, their chief-priests and scribes. It is the Philistine who imagines himself superior to other Philistines. This is the one flight his imagination is capable of. The artist may be superior, but that, I think, is not what you mean?” “You’re right,” said Owen, fiercely, “it’s not what I mean. And I suppose _you_ are an artist?” “My dear Gill, it is apparent.” “I’m not your dear Gill,” said Owen, who had lost his temper. “Shut up, Owen,” I interrupted. “What’s the use of taking everything so seriously?” “Because everything _is_ serious. You may say a lot of chatter about white peacocks and Philistines doesn’t mean anything if you like, but it does. It is a mask for other things that are real enough――for selfishness, and immorality.” We all gazed at him in silence, almost open-mouthed, Gerald with a faint smile on his handsome face. Miss Dick alone found it incumbent upon her to say something, and she remarked that the Charity Organization Committee to which she belonged had been able to do a great deal, and that the lecture with lime-light views had brought in over three pounds――she meant even after all expenses had been paid. These observations could not fill up the breach. Nobody, indeed, took any notice of them. Katherine had laid down her work, and her eyes were fixed on Owen’s angry face, with, I thought, an expression of admiration and sympathy.