"I wish I had," said Rickman, and his tone implied that he appreciated the painfulness of the subject. There was a pause which Rickman broke by congratulating Jewdwine on his appointment. This he did with a very pretty diffidence and modesty, which smoothed over the awkwardness of the transition, if indeed it did not convey an adroit suggestion of the insignificance of all other affairs. The editor, still observing his unconscious candidate, was very favourably impressed. He laid before him the views and aims of _The Museion_. Yes; he thought it had a future before it. He was going to make it the organ of philosophic criticism, as opposed to the mere personal view. It would, therefore, be unique. Yes; certainly it would also be unpopular. Heaven forbid that anything he was concerned in should be popular. It was sufficient that it should be impartial and incorruptible. Its tone was to be sober and scholarly, but militant. Rickman gathered that its staff were to be so many knights-errant defending the virtue of the English Language. No loose slip-shod journalistic phrase would be permitted in its columns. Its articles, besides being well reasoned, would be examples of the purity it preached. It was to set its face sternly against Democracy, Commercialism and Decadence. The disciple caught fire from the master's enthusiasm; he approved, aspired, exulted. His heart was big with belief in Jewdwine and his work. Being innocent himself of any sordid taint, he admired above all things what he called his friend's intellectual chastity. Jewdwine felt the truth of what Lucia had told him. He could count absolutely on Rickman's devotion. He arrived by well-constructed stages at the offer of the sub-editorship. Rickman looked up with a curious uncomprehending stare. When he clearly understood the proposal that was being made to him, he flushed deeply and showed unmistakable signs of agitation. "Do you think," said Jewdwine discreetly, "you'd care to try it for a time?" "I don't know, I'm sure," said Rickman thoughtfully. "Well, it's only an experiment. I'm not offering you anything permanent." "Of course, that makes all the difference." "It does; if it isn't good enough--" "You don't understand me. That's what would make it all right." "Make what all right?" "My accepting--if you really only want a stop-gap." "I see," said Jewdwine to himself, "the youth has tasted liberty, and he objects to being caught and caged." "The question is," said Rickman, sinking into thought again, "whether you really want _me_." "My dear fellow, why on earth should I say so if I didn't?" "N--no. Only I thought, after the mess I've made of things, that none of your family would ever care to have anything to do with me again." It was the nearest he had come to mentioning Lucia Harden, and the pain it cost him was visible on his face. "My family," said Jewdwine with a stiff smile, "will _not_ have anything to do with you. It has nothing to do with _The Museion_.