"Your own fault entirely," said Lady Errington warmly, "as you have denied yourself nothing you now reap the reward of such indulgence and enjoy nothing. Your present satiety is the logical sequence of your own acts. Why not therefore try and lead a nobler and better life? Go among the poor and give them the help they so much need. Look upon your fortune as money entrusted to you, not to squander on unsatisfying pleasures, but to use for the benefit of humanity. Do this, Mr. Gartney, and I assure you the result will be satisfactory, for you will find in such well-doing the new pleasure which Xerxes desired but never obtained." With a sceptical smile on his massive features Eustace listened to her earnest speech, and at its conclusion laughed softly in his own cynical manner. "A most delightful view of one's duties to the world at large," he said satirically, "but hardly satisfactory. That recipe for happiness has been given to me before, Lady Errington, and is, I think, more charming in theory than in practice. Suppose I did take this advice you give me in the goodness of your heart, and went out into the world to play the thankless part of a philanthropist, what would I gain--only a more intimate knowledge of human selfishness and human iniquity. If I assisted A, a most deserving person from his own point of view, I've no doubt A would become my bitterest enemy because I had not done enough for him. I might rescue B from the workhouse, and B would consider me shabby if I did not support him for the rest of his natural life. As for C, well, I need not go through the whole alphabet, in order to illustrate my views of the matter, but I assure you, Lady Errington, if I employed my money in alleviating the distresses of my fellow creatures, I would get very little praise and a great deal of blame during my life, and when I died no doubt a short paragraph in a newspaper as 'an earnest but misguided philanthropist!' No! believe me I have thought deeply about the whole thing, and the game is not worth the candle." "You look at things in a wrong light." "In the only possible light, I'm afraid. Rose-coloured spectacles are not obtainable now-a-days." "Still such a pessimistic view----" "Is forced upon us by circumstances. This is the nineteenth century, you know, and we have no illusions left--they went out with religion." "Well, I must try and convince you of the falsity of your views some other time," said Alizon closing her fan with a sigh, "but at present I see Guy and Mr. Macjean are coming to interrupt our conversation." She rose to her feet as she spoke, a tall, slim, white figure, that seemed to sway like a graceful lily at the breath of the evening breeze. Eustace, ever prone to poetical impressions, made this comparison in his own mind as he left his chair and advanced with her to meet Guy and Angus.