This was quite too much.  Theron rose, flushed to the temples, and scowled down at the helpless man in the chair.  He swallowed the sharp words which came uppermost, and bit and moistened his lips as he forced himself to remember that this was a dying man, and Celia’s brother, to whom she was devoted, and whom he himself felt he wanted to be very fond of.  He got the shadow of a smile on to his countenance.

“I fear you have tired yourself unduly,” he said, in as non-contentious a tone as he could manage.  He even contrived a little deprecatory laugh.  “I am afraid your real quarrel is with the air of Octavius.  It agrees with me so wonderfully—­I am getting as fat as a seal.  But I do hope I am not paying for it by such a wholesale deterioration inside.  If my own opinion could be of any value, I should assure you that I feel myself an infinitely better and broader and stronger man than I was when I came here.”

Michael shook his head dogmatically.  “That is the greatest pity of all,” he said, with renewed earnestness.  “You are entirely deceived about yourself.  You do not at all realize how you have altered your direction, or where you are going.  It was a great misfortune for you, sir, that you did not keep among your own people.  That poor half-brother of mine, though the drink was in him when he said that same to you, never spoke a truer word.  Keep among your own people, Mr. Ware!  When you go among others—­you know what I mean—­you have no proper understanding of what their sayings and doings really mean.  You do not realize that they are held up by the power of the true Church, as a little child learning to walk is held up with a belt by its nurse.  They can say and do things, and no harm at all come to them, which would mean destruction to you, because they have help, and you are walking alone.  And so be said by me, Mr. Ware!  Go back to the way you were brought up in, and leave alone the people whose ways are different from yours.  You are a married man, and you are the preacher of a religion, such as it is.  There can be nothing better for you than to go and strive to be a good husband, and to set a good example to the people of your Church, who look up to you—­and mix yourself up no more with outside people and outside notions that only do you mischief.  And that is what I wanted to say to you.”

Theron took up his hat.  “I take in all kindness what you have felt it your duty to say to me, Mr. Madden,” he said.  “I am not sure that I have altogether followed you, but I am very sure you mean it well.”

“I mean well by you,” replied Michael, wearily moving his head on the pillow, and speaking in an undertone of languor and pain, “and I mean well by others, that are nearer to me, and that I have a right to care more about.  When a man lies by the site of his open grave, he does not be meaning ill to any human soul.”