Mr. Haveloc remained silent for some moments. "I wonder what that means exactly," said he, at last. "It means, I think, to give some little comfort to the upright, when they find that all through their lives they are wronged and surpassed by those who are unscrupulous in their tools and weapons," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick. "Cold comfort," said Mr. Haveloc, still musing. "I think not so," replied Mrs. Fitzpatrick. "I think it is comfort enough if an honest man is told, on the highest authority--it will be so--you will not surpass--you will not be enriched--you will not be well spoken of, like your unprincipled neighbour--you will be deceived and impoverished by those who are more skilful than yourself, skilful in arts which your profession forbids you to use. If they are not told this, they might become restless and dissatisfied, and attribute to themselves some of the failure which belongs to the fact, that this world is the home of the wicked, but a strange land to the Christian pilgrim." Mr. Haveloc, seemed much struck by her remarks, but remained silent. "Mr. Lindsay is an illustration of mamma's idea," said Aveline, "he is much too honest ever to be rich. Plain dealing never answers with common minds; and I leave you to judge of the proportion of superior people that fall in the way of a country practitioner." "You think with the old poet," said Mr. Haveloc. "The stars are not more distant from the earth, Than profit is from honesty!" "That is very well said," remarked Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "whose is it?" "Beaumont and Fletcher's," he replied. "I wish you would read to us 'The Faithful Shepherdess,'" said Aveline, "you were to have done so at Sorrento, only you had not the Author with you." "Willingly, if you are in the humour for it," said Mr. Haveloc; "but first, Miss Fitzpatrick, I must see you look a little more comfortable; I shall order up a heap of cushions, and install you like 'Lalla Rookh,' before I begin to read." "Oh! what a Sybarite!" cried Aveline, as he arranged a pile of red silk cushions for her upon the deck, "do look, mamma!" "I am much obliged to Mr. Haveloc," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "and feel very little disposed to quarrel with his luxurious equipments, for really Aveline you do begin to look rather fagged." "I hope he is clever, this country practitioner," said Mr. Haveloc, looking up suddenly from his task. "Clever!" cried Aveline. "Mamma would be highly offended with any one else who should presume to call her Mr. Lindsay clever. He is a man of excellent judgment, Mr. Haveloc." "I am glad of it," said Mr. Haveloc, "for your sake." Aveline smiled and settled herself to listen. The day was beautiful, the coast in the distance was reduced to a miniature picture steeped in the most delicious and variegated tints. The air was hot and still, and nothing interrupted the silence but the flapping of a sail, and the gentle sound of the water rising and falling slowly against the side of the vessel.