“Very interesting,” murmured the vicar, who listened with an effort whilst mechanically loading his pipe.

“Isn’t it?  And the ideas are well marked out; first the bio-sociological theory,—­then the psychology and ethics which result from it.  The book has given me a stronger impulse than anything I’ve read for years.  It carries conviction with it.  It clears one’s mind of all sorts of doubts and hesitations.  I always kicked at the democratic idea; now I know that I was right.”

“Ah!  Perhaps so.  These questions are very difficult—­By the bye, Dyce, I want to speak to you about a matter that has been rather troubling me of late.  Let us get it over now, shall we?”

Dyce’s animated look faded under a shadow of uneasiness.  He regarded the vicar steadily, with eyes which gathered apprehension.

“It’s very disagreeable,” pursued Mr. Lashmar, after puffing a pipe unlit.  “I’m afraid it’ll be no less so to you than to me.  I’ve postponed the necessity as long as I could.  The fact is, Dyce, I’m getting pinched in my finances.  Let me tell you just how matters stand.”

The son listened to an exposition of his father’s difficulties; he had his feet crossed, his head bent, and the pipe hanging from his mouth.  At the first silence, he removed his pipe and said quietly: 

“It’s plain that my allowance must stop.  Not another word about that, father.  You ought to have spoken before; I’ve been a burden to you.”

“No, no, my dear boy!  I haven’t felt it till now.  But, as you see, things begin to look awkward.  Do you think you can manage?”

“Of course I can.  Don’t trouble about me for a moment.  I have my hundred and fifty a year from Mrs. Woolstan, and that’s quite enough for a bachelor.  I shall pick up something else.  In any case, I’ve no right to sponge on you; I’ve done it too long.  If I had had the slightest suspicion—­”

A sense of virtue lit up Dyce’s countenance again.  Nothing was more agreeable to him than the uttering of generous sentiments.  Having reassured his father, he launched into a larger optimism.

“Don’t Suppose that I have taken your money year after year without thinking about it.  I couldn’t have gone on like that if I hadn’t felt sure that some day I should pay my debt.  It’s natural enough that you and mother should feel a little disappointed about me, I seem to have done nothing, but, believe me, I am not idle.  Money-making, I admit, has never been much in my mind; all the same, I shall have money enough one of these days, and before very long.  Try to have faith in me.  If it were necessary, I shouldn’t mind entering into an obligation to furnish such and such a sum yearly by when I am thirty years old.  It’s a thing I never said to anyone, but I know perfectly well that a career—­perhaps rather a brilliant one—­is opening before me.  I know it—­just as one knows that one is in good health; it’s an intimate sense, needing no support of argument.”