We are constantly criticising people--by way of patting ourselves on the back--because they take what they want regardless of the feelings of others. A form of self-righteousness as shameless as common; for we happen not to fancy the things they show themselves inconsiderate and swinish about. But--when we really do want a thing--what then? How industrious we become in appeal to conscience--that most perfect of courtiers--to show us how just and right it is that we should have this thing _we_ want! Having set myself drastically to cure self-fooling years before--when first I realized how dangerous it is and how common a cause of failure and ruin--I was unable to conceal from myself the cruelty of forcing Edna to divorce me. My conscience--as sly a sophist and flatterer as yours, gentle reader--my conscience could not convince me. Cruel things I had never done--that is, not directly. Of course I, like all men of action, had again and again been compelled to do them indirectly. But not by my own direct act had I ever made any human being suffer. I would not begin now. I would not commit the stupidity of trying to found my happiness upon the wretchedness of another. I could feel the withering scorn that would blaze in Mary Kirkwood’s honest eyes if I should go to her after having freed myself by force, and she should find it out. I see your sarcastic smile, gentle reader, as I thus ingenuously confess the selfish fear that was the hidden spring of my virtue. Your smile betrays your shallowness. If you knew human nature you would know that all _real_ motives are selfish. The differences of character in human beings are not differences between selfish and unselfish. They are differences between petty, short-sighted selfishness and broad, far-sighted selfishness. When I saw Edna again she was still wavering. She had come to America with her mind made up for divorce, if I could by hook or by crook be induced to consent. She had been frightened by this attack upon her--frightened as only those who live a life of complete self-deception can be frightened by a sudden and public holding up of the mirror to reflect their naked selves. She was, of course, easily able to convince herself that her own motives in seeking a divorce were fine and high and self-martyring. But she could now see no way to convince others. In the public estimation she saw she would be classed with Lady Blankenship, with Mrs. Ramsdell, with all the other women who had got divorces to better themselves socially or financially. Instead of dying out the scandal grew. The daily papers took up the hints in the society journal’s veiled paragraph, had long cabled accounts of Count von Biestrich, of his attentions to Edna, told when and where they had been guests at the same châteaus and country houses, made it appear that they had been no better than they should be for nearly a year. Edna was prostrated.