“Mr. Graham,” said the marquis, looking ghastly, “you must have patience with a dying man.  I was very rude to you, but I was in horrible pain.”

“Don’t mention it, my lord.  It would be a poor friendship that gave way for a rough word.”

“How can you call yourself my friend?”

“I should be your friend, my lord, if it were only for your wife’s sake.  She died loving you.  I want to send you to her, my lord.  You will allow that, as a gentleman, you at least owe her an apology.”

“By Jove, you are right, sir!  Then you really and positively believe in the place they call heaven?”

“My lord, I believe that those who open their hearts to the truth shall see the light on their friends’ faces again, and be able to set right what was wrong between them.”

“It’s a week too late to talk of setting right.”

“Go and tell her you are sorry, my lord—­that will be enough for her.”

“Ah! but there’s more than her concerned.”

“You are right, my lord.  There is another—­One who cannot be satisfied that the fairest works of his hands, or rather the loveliest children of his heart, should be treated as you have treated women.”

“But the Deity you talk of—­”

“I beg your pardon, my lord:  I talked of no deity.  I talked of a living Love that gave us birth and calls us his children.  Your deity I know nothing of.”

“Call Him what you please:  He won’t be put off so easily.”

“He won’t be put off, one jot or one tittle.  He will forgive anything, but He will pass nothing.  Will your wife forgive you?”

“She will, when I explain.”

“Then why should you think the forgiveness of God, which created her forgiveness, should be less?”

Whether the marquis could grasp the reasoning may be doubtful.

“Do you really suppose God cares whether a man comes to good or ill?”

“If He did not, He could not be good Himself.”

“Then you don’t think a good God would care to punish poor wretches like us?”

“Your lordship has not been in the habit of regarding himself as a poor wretch.  And, remember, you can’t call a child a poor wretch without insulting the father of it.”

“That’s quite another thing.”

“But on the wrong side for your argument, seeing the relation between God and the poorest creature is infinitely closer than that between any father and his child.”

“Then He can’t be so hard on him as the parsons say.”

“He will give him absolute justice, which is the only good thing.  He will spare nothing to bring his children back to Himself, their sole well-being.  What would you do, my lord, if you saw your son strike a woman?”

“Knock him down and horsewhip him.”

It was Mr. Graham who broke the silence that followed:  “Are you satisfied with yourself, my lord?”

“No, by God!”