“By that I understand that in these ten months your mind has not altered.”

“No; but as I say, I won’t bother you.”

“Have you reconsidered the question, or have you stuck to it because you said you would?”

“I have reconsidered it.”

“You feel quite satisfied that, as far as you are concerned, this is the right thing to do?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, as far as I am concerned, I don’t want to drive you to the other side of the continent.  You can take advantage of the opening here if you want to.”

Alec looked down at the things on the table.  He felt the embarrassment of detecting his brother in some private religious exercise; nothing, he thought, but an excess of self-denial could have brought this about; yet he was gratified.

“Look here!  You’d better not say that—­I might take you at your word.”

“Consider that settled.  You set up shop, and I will take a fraternal interest in the number of animals you kill, and always tell you with conscientious care when the beef you supply to me is tough.  And in the meantime, tell me, like a good fellow, why you stick to this thing.  When you flung from me last time you gave me no explanation of what you thought.”

“At least,” cried Alec, wrath rising at the memory of that quarrel, “I gave you a fair hearing, and knew what you thought.”

When anger began he looked his brother full in the face, thus noticing how thin that face was, too thin for a man in the prime of life, and the eye was too bright.  As the brief feeling of annoyance subsided, the habitual charm of the elder man’s smile made him continue to look at him.

“And yet,” continued Robert, “two wrongs do not make a right.  That I am a snob does not excuse you for taking up any line of life short of the noblest within your reach.”

The other again warned himself against hidden danger.  “You’re such a confoundedly fascinating fellow, with your smiles and your suppressed religion, I don’t wonder the girls run after you.  But you are a Jesuit—­I never called you a snob—­you’re giving yourself names to fetch me round to see things your way.”

It was an outburst, half of admiring affection, half of angry obstinacy, and the elder brother received it without resentment, albeit a little absently.  He was thinking that if Alec held out, “the girls” would not run after him much more.  But then he thought that there was one among them who would not think less, who perhaps might think more of him, for this sacrifice.  He had not made it for her; it might never be his lot to make any sacrifice for her; yet she perhaps would understand this one and applaud it.  The thought brought a sudden light to his face, and Alec watched the light and had no clue by which to understand it.  He began, however, defending himself.

“Look here!  You suggest I should take the noblest course, as if I had never thought of that before.  I’m not lower in the scale of creation than you, and I’ve had the same bringing up.  I’ve never done anything great, but I’ve tried not to do the other thing.  I felt I should be a sneak when I left school if I disappointed father for the sake of being something fine, and I feel I should be a sneak now if I turned—­”