'When a man comes home from a successful chase, with his bag well stuffed with game, the women do not quarrel with him because there is mud on his gaiters.' 'Alaric, that which is evil is evil. Lies are evil--' 'And am I a liar?' 'Heaven forbid that I should say so: heaven forbid that I should have to think so! but it is by such doctrines as that that men become liars.' 'What! by having muddy gaiters?' 'By disregarding the means in looking to the end.' 'And I will tell you how men become mere vegetables, by filling their minds with useless--needless scruples--by straining at gnats--' 'Well, finish your quotation,' said Harry. 'I have finished it; in speaking to you I would not for the world go on, and seem to insinuate that you would swallow a camel. No insinuation could be more base or unjust. But, nevertheless, I think you may be too over-scrupulous. What great man ever rose to greatness,' continued Alaric, after they had walked nearly the length of the building in silence, 'who thought it necessary to pick his steps in the manner you have described?' 'Then I would not be great,' said Harry. 'But, surely, God intends that there shall be great men on the earth?' 'He certainly wishes that there should be good men,' said Harry. 'And cannot a man be good and great?' 'That is the problem for a man to solve. Do you try that. Good you certainly can be, if you look to Him for assistance. Let that come first; and then the greatness, if that be possible.' 'It is all a quibble about a word,' said Alaric. 'What is good? David was a man after God's own heart, and a great man too, and yet he did things which, were I to do, I should be too base to live. Look at Jacob--how did he achieve the tremendous rights of patriarchal primogeniture? But, come, the policemen are trying to get rid of us; it is time for us to go,' and so they left the building, and passed the remainder of the evening in concord together--in concord so soon to be dissolved, and, ah! perhaps never to be renewed. On the next morning Alaric and his new companion met each other at an early hour at the Paddington station. Neverbend was rather fussy with his dispatch-box, and a large official packet, which an office messenger, dashing up in a cab, brought to him at the moment of his departure. Neverbend's enemies were wont to declare that a messenger, a cab, and a big packet always rushed up at the moment of his starting on any of his official trips. Then he had his ticket to get and his _Times_ to buy, and he really had not leisure to do more than nod at Alaric till he had folded his rug around him, tried that the cushion was soft enough, and completed his arrangements for the journey. 'Well, Mr. Tudor,' at last he said, as soon as the train was in motion, 'and how are you this morning--ready for work, I hope?' 'Well, not exactly at this moment,' said Alaric. 'One has to get up so early for these morning trains.'