'I have deserted them,' cried Virginia, 'for the pleasures of the imagination, which I gathered from you were also very ennobling. And I found they were so; for I have been imagining that you loved me. Why is the reality less ennobling than the imagination? Paul, you shall love me; I will force you to love me. It will make us both so happy: we shall never go to hell for it; and it cannot possibly cause the slightest scandal.' The Professor was more bewildered than ever by these appeals. He wondered how Humanity would ever get on if one half of it cared nothing for pure truth, and persisted in following the vulgar impulses that had been the most distinguishing feature of its benighted past--that is to say, those ages of its existence of which any record has been preserved for us. Luckily, however, Virginia came to his assistance. 'I think I know, Paul,' she said, 'why I do not care as I should do for the intellectual pleasures. We have both been seeking them by ourselves; and we have been therefore egoistic hedonists. It is quite true, as you say, that selfishness is a despicable thing. Let me,' she went on, sitting down beside him, 'look through your microscope along with you. I think perhaps, if we shared the pleasure, the missing link's parasites might have some interest for me.' The Professor was overjoyed at this proposal. The two sat down side by side, and tried their best to look simultaneously through the eye-piece of the microscope. Virginia in a moment expressed herself much satisfied. It is true they saw nothing; but their cheeks touched. The Professor too seemed contented, and said they should both be in a state of rapture when they had got the right focus. At last Virginia whispered, with a soft smile-- 'Suppose we put that nasty microscope aside; it is only in the way. And then, oh, Paul; dear love, dove of a Paul! we can kiss each other to our heart's content.' Paul thought Virginia quite incorrigible, and rushed headlong out of the room. CHAPTER XVIII.