"Certainly," replied Mrs. Bergan, with perfect composure. "The first thing is to destroy the halo with which he is now surrounded, by bringing him into the disenchanting daylight of commonplace, everyday association. Next, we must rob him of the crown of martyrdom, so far as we are concerned, by frankly confessing that we were a little too severe upon him at first, and by doing full justice to his talents in a matter-of-fact way. Finally, we must make the most of the relationship." "You may be right," said Mr. Bergan, after some moments of deep thought. "Though, at first sight, it looks very much like jumping into the river, to avoid the rain." "My dear," replied Mrs. Bergan, earnestly, "we cannot keep them apart, if we would, as matters are now turning. Twice already, we have met him at dinner parties, where he is the lion of the hour, and everybody makes much of him but ourselves; and we shall continue to do so, until the round is finished. It must be confessed that he wears his honors modestly; at times, I cannot help feeling proud of him myself." "I never doubted his ability, nor overlooked his pleasing manners," said Mr. Bergan. "But what are they but gems on a poisoned cup, if the virus of intemperance be in his blood, or his principles be unsound?" "The latter can hardly be the case," remarked Mrs. Bergan, "if the report be true that he refuses to have anything to do with a cause that he does not believe to be just. That seems to argue uncommon strength of principle." "I am not so sure about that," returned Mr. Bergan, shaking his head dubiously. "Most people, I find, regard it as one of the many eccentricities of genius. Others think he only showed his shrewdness in declining to undertake a cause that he was sure to lose, after his brilliant victory in the case of Corlew vs. Kenan. Besides, he has not announced that such is to be his settled course of action. And if he did, it would seem arrogant, in so young a man. It is, in fact, judging the cause before it is tried." "It strikes me that a man must needs judge things beforehand, where his own conscience is concerned," observed Mrs. Bergan, thoughtfully. "You would not expect him to act first, and decide afterward whether he had done right or wrong." "In judging his own actions, he need not judge those of his fellows," replied Mr. Bergan, somewhat magisterially. His wife could not help wondering within herself how such judgment could well be avoided, where a course of action was involved. But she wisely forbore to press the point, and reverted to the main argument.