"I protest," answered Serge. "My whole indignation arises from the unkindness and dishonesty of stuffing young people, and ignorant people, with generalisations." "What else can you give them? They are not conscious of individuality." "I don't believe that, and even if it were so you ought to leave them free to become conscious--if they can." "The risk is too great." "What risk?" Bennett's mind had been moving swiftly and partly by memory, partly by intuition he came to this: "People can't do as they like." Serge stood up suddenly and paced round the room. "Young idiot!" he said. "They can, and they do. Isn't it your experience, Father, that they do? The trouble is that with all these foolish generalisations buzzing in their heads they are always doing the wrong things, and doing them in the wrong way, shuffling, and sneaking so as to hide away from the bogies you give them." He turned to Bennett and asked: "Has what you do and think on Sunday the slightest bearing on what you do and think on week-days?" "It keeps me from temptation," said Bennett so earnestly that there was not the smallest hint of priggishness in him. Serge took him by the arm and lifted him clean out of his chair and set him down with a jolt on to his feet. "Keeps you from temptation, does it! How?--By running away from it." Bennett was very angry. He raised his voice: "If you had to live in my house you wouldn't talk like that. My father's a drunken beast and my mother doesn't even try to understand us. You'd believe in God if you lived in our house. . ." He came to an end suddenly. Serge patted him kindly on the shoulder. "That's all right. That's all right. Let's go upstairs and see what a happy home is like, or perhaps you would prefer to go and talk to my father and Father Soledano in the study." "I'll go with you," said Bennett. They went upstairs, and Father Soledano joined Francis in the study. In the drawing-room they found Frederic holding forth about the performance in the school-room. The piece chosen was _The Rose and the Ring_, in a musical version. Gertrude asked Bennett if he could sing. He replied that he could, and Frederic graciously allowed him the use of one of his songs, "On, on, my bark, dash through the foam." Bennett had a light baritone voice with a curious harsh quality in the middle notes, but he loved singing and really let himself go. When he had finished Mrs. Folyat looked up from her _Family Herald_ and said: "Very nice, very nice indeed. Even Frederic does not sing it so well." Frederic asked Bennett to take a part in _The Rose and the Ring_, and he accepted. Gertrude took him aside to show him his part, and Mary produced her violin and played Mendelssohn's Songs Without Words for half an hour, after which she produced a table and cards and sat playing Bézique with her mother. (Mrs. Folyat declared that she could not sleep without her game. No one else was allowed to play cards on Sunday.)