He called the attendant.

“Esther has the most nonsensical opinions,” said Addie gravely.  “As if people weren’t responsible for their actions!  Do good and all shall be well with thee, is sound Bible teaching and sound common sense.”

“Yes, but isn’t it the Bible that says, ’The fathers have eaten a sour grape and the teeth of the children are set on edge’?” Esther retorted.

Addie looked perplexed.  “It sounds contradictory,” she said honestly.

“Not at all, Addie,” said Esther.  “The Bible is a literature, not a book.  If you choose to bind Tennyson and Milton in one volume that doesn’t make them a book.  And you can’t complain if you find contradictions in the text.  Don’t you think the sour grape text the truer, Mr. Graham?”

“Don’t ask me, please.  I’m prejudiced against anything that appears in the Bible.”

In his flippant way Sidney spoke the truth.  He had an almost physical repugnance for his fathers’ ways of looking at things.

“I think you’re the two most wicked people in the world,” exclaimed Addie gravely.

“We are,” said Sidney lightly.  “I wonder you consent to sit in the same box with us.  How you can find my company endurable I can never make out.”

Addie’s lovely face flushed and her lip quivered a little.

“It’s your friend who’s the wickeder of the two,” pursued Sidney.  “For she’s in earnest and I’m not.  Life’s too short for us to take the world’s troubles on our shoulders, not to speak of the unborn millions.  A little light and joy, the flush of sunset or of a lovely woman’s face, a fleeting strain of melody, the scent of a rose, the flavor of old wine, the flash of a jest, and ah, yes, a cup of coffee—­here’s yours, Miss Ansell—­that’s the most we can hope for in life.  Let us start a religion with one commandment:  ‘Enjoy thyself.’”

“That religion has too many disciples already,” said Esther, stirring her coffee.

“Then why not start it if you wish to reform the world,” asked Sidney.  “All religions survive merely by being broken.  With only one commandment to break, everybody would jump at the chance.  But so long as you tell people they mustn’t enjoy themselves, they will, it’s human nature, and you can’t alter that by Act of Parliament or Confession of Faith.  Christ ran amuck at human nature, and human nature celebrates his birthday with pantomimes.”

“Christ understood human nature better than the modern young man,” said Esther scathingly, “and the proof lies in the almost limitless impress he has left on history.”

“Oh, that was a fluke,” said Sidney lightly.  “His real influence is only superficial.  Scratch the Christian and you find the Pagan—­spoiled.”

“He divined by genius what science is slowly finding out,” said Esther, “when he said, ’Forgive them for they know not what they do’!—­”

Sidney laughed heartily.  “That seems to be your King Charles’s head—­seeing divinations of modern science in all the old ideas.  Personally I honor him for discovering that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.  Strange he should have stopped half-way to the truth!”