"
"If anything happened? What should happen? You mean, on board ship?"
There was a little nervousness in her tone now.
"I am only hinting at an awkward possibility," I replied.
She looked at me scornfully. "When did you see that picture on his
breast?" I told her. "Ah! before THAT day?" she rejoined. I knew that she
referred to the evening when I had yielded foolishly to the fascination
of her presence. The blood swam hotly in my face. "Men are not noble
creatures," she continued.
"I am afraid you would not give many their patents of nobility if you had
power to bestow them," I answered.
"Most men at the beginning, and very often ever after, are ignoble
creatures. Yet I should confer the patents of nobility, if it were my
prerogative; for some would succeed in living up to them. Vanity would
accomplish that much. Vanity is the secret of noblesse oblige; not
radical virtue--since we are beginning to be bookish again."
"To what do you reduce honour and right?" returned I.
"As I said to you on a memorable occasion," she answered very drily, "to
a code."
"That is," rejoined I, "a man does a good action, lives an honourable
life, to satisfy a social canon--to gratify, say, a wife or mother, who
believes in him, and loves him?"
"Yes.
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