Ay, he had made a mistake, but it was not that one. It was the other mistake that men continually make about women; they can not understand that love is not worth having, that it is not love at all, but merely a selfish carrying out of selfish desires, if it blinds us to any other duty, or blunts in us any other sacred tenderness. They can not see how she who is false in one relation may be false in another; and that, true as human nature's truth, ay, and often fulfilling itself, is Brabantio's ominous warning to Othello-- "Look to her, Moor! have a good eye to see; She has deceived her father, and may thee." Perhaps as soon as he had said the bitter word Mr. Lyon was sorry, any how, the soft answer which followed it thrilled through every nerve of the strong willed man--a man not easily made angry, but when he was, very hard to move. "Robert, will you listen to me for two minutes?" "For as long as you like, only you must not expect me to agree with you. You can not suppose I shall say it is right for you to forsake me." "I forsake you? Oh, Robert!" Words are not always the wisest arguments. His "little woman" crept closer, and laid her head on his breast: he clasped convulsively. "Oh, Hilary, how could you wound me so?" And in lieu of the discussion, a long silence brooded over the fireside--the silence of exceeding love. "Now, Robert, may I talk to you?" "Yes. Preach away, my little conscience." "It shall not be preaching, and it is not altogether for conscience," said she smiling. "You would not like me to tell you I did not love Johanna?" "Certainly not. I love her very much myself, only I prefer you, as is natural. Apparently you do not prefer me, which may also be natural." "Robert!" There are times when a laugh is better than a reproach; and something else, which need not be more particularly explained, is safer than either. It is possible Hilary tried the experiment, and then resumed her "say." "Now, Robert put yourself in my place, and try to think for me. I have been Johanna's child for thirty years; she is entirely dependent upon me. Her health is feeble; every year of her life is at least doubtful. If she lost me I think she would never live out the next three years. You would not like that?" "No." "In all divided duties like this somebody must suffer; the question is, which can suffer best? She is old and frail, we are young; she is alone, we are two; she never had any happiness in her life, except, perhaps me; and we--oh how happy we are! I think, Robert, it would be better for us to suffer than poor Johanna." "You little Jesuit," he said: but the higher nature of the man was roused; he was no longer angry. "It is only for a short time, remember--only three years." "And how can I do without you for three years?"