"Upon my word, I never thought of such a thing!" And Ben stared at his cousin in genuine astonishment. "Isn't that straining a point, my wise little cousin?" "Is it? Suppose I believe that my hands should do nothing to help along anything that is wrong in the world, could I, in that case, handle cigars much?" "That depends. Are cigars wicked?" Elsie flashed a pair of keen eyes on him. "Are cigars good?" He laughed good-naturedly. "Why, no; I haven't been in the habit of attaching any moral character to them whatever." "Very well; then why do you pretend that I am talking about their moral character? The question is, do I believe that it is wrong to spend money for cigars, and to spoil one's breath, and poison the air that belongs to other people with their vile odors? In that case, I must be consistent with my belief, and not let my hands help along that which I consider mischievous." "Pitch them into the gutter if you want to," he said, good-humoredly. "You see they are not mine; I promised to bring them up for Hal; so I can afford to be generous." "Does Hal smoke?" "Like a furnace. I won't tell him, though, that you helped the matter along. I'll appear to have carried the offending box every step of the way myself." But Elsie did not smile. "If I were Emmeline," she began, then stopped. "What then? Supposing I can stretch my credulity enough to imagine anything so preposterous." "Never mind; perhaps I ought not to say it." "But it will do no harm for me to guess it. In the light of your last sharp remarks, I fancy you were going to say: If I were Emmeline I would not marry a cigar smoker.'" "It is true," Elsie said, laughing a little, "I wouldn't." "Really? Are you serious about this thing? Do you honestly think there is anything so very wicked about smoking a cigar now and then?" "What a way to put it! As if a thing must be 'so very wrong' in order to be—not right. As to the 'now and then'—Oh, if you needed a lecture, Ben, I think I could give it; I've thought a great deal about the matter; but just now I was looking at it from such a simple platform that it doesn't need argument. Hal, you know, is a Christian, and he professes to govern all his life by one rule, as a servant who belongs body and purse to Christ. How very easy it would be for him to decide whether he ought to spend his money on cigars!" Ben, I regret to say, was guilty of the ungentlemanly act of whistling. A low whistle, instantly suppressed, but it expressed his views. "How many Christians do you suppose govern themselves by any such rules?" "The question has nothing whatever to do with the argument," Elsie said; "but I'll answer it. Very few, I think. Does that annihilate the rule?" "How fortunate it is for me that we are just at the door," Ben answered, gayly. "Give me the box of cigars, quick; and don't convert Emmeline to your way of thinking, or we shall have no wedding to attend."