"If you were not so good-looking I should call you heartless"--I said at last--"But your features are a direct contradiction to your words. You have not really that indifference to human nature which you strive to assume,--your whole aspect betokens a generosity of spirit which you cannot conquer if you would. Besides, are you not always trying to do good?" He smiled. "Always! That is, I am always at work endeavouring to gratify every man's desire. Whether that is good of me, or bad, remains to be proved. Men's wants are almost illimitable,--the only thing none of them ever seem to wish, so far as I am concerned, is to cut my acquaintance!" "Why, of course not! After once meeting you, how could they!" I said, laughing at the absurdity of the suggestion. He gave me a whimsical side-look. "Their desires are not always virtuous," he remarked, turning to flick off the ash of his cigar into the grate. "But of course you do not gratify them in their vices!" I rejoined, still laughing--"That would be playing the part of a benefactor somewhat too thoroughly!" "Ah now I see we shall flounder in the quicksands of theory if we go any further"--he said--"You forget, my dear fellow, that nobody can decide as to what _is_ vice, or what _is_ virtue. These things are chameleon-like, and take different colours in different countries. Abraham had two or three wives and several concubines, and he was the very soul of virtue according to sacred lore,--whereas my Lord Tom-Noddy in London to-day has one wife and several concubines, and is really very much like Abraham in other particulars, yet he is considered a very dreadful person. 'Who shall decide when doctors disagree!' Let's drop the subject, as we shall never settle it. What shall we do with the rest of the evening? There is a stout-limbed, shrewd wench at the Tivoli, dancing her way into the affections of a ricketty little Duke,--shall we go and watch the admirable contortions with which she is wriggling into a fixed position among the English aristocracy? Or are you tired, and would you prefer a long night's rest?" To tell the truth I was thoroughly fatigued, and mentally as well as physically worn out with the excitements of the day,--my head too was heavy with the wine to which I had so long been unaccustomed. "Upon my word I think I would rather go to bed than anything--" I confessed--"But what about my room?" "Oh, Amiel will have attended to that for you,--we'll ask him." And he touched the bell. His valet instantly appeared. "Have you got a room for Mr Tempest?" "Yes, your Excellency. An apartment in this corridor almost facing your Excellency's suite. It is not as well furnished as it might be, but I have made it as comfortable as I can for the night." "Thanks very much!" I said--"I am greatly obliged to you." Amiel bowed deferentially. "Thank _you_, sir."