He spoke it slowly and clearly, his eyes fixed on the fire.

“You seem to me to be attributing moral responsibility to her.”

“What I say is this that I believe her nature incapable of admitting the vulgar influences to which people in general are subject.  I attach no merit to her high qualities—­no more than I attach merit to the sea for being a nobler thing than a muddy puddle.  Of course I know that she cannot help being what she is, and cannot say to herself that in future she will become this or that.  How am I inconsistent?  Suppose me wrong in my estimate of her.  I might then lament that she fell below what I had imagined, but of course I should have no right to blame her.”

Miriam reflected; then put the question: 

“And does she hold the same opinion—­with reference to you, for instance?”

“Theoretically she does.”

“Theoretically?  If she made her opinions practical, I suppose there would be no reason why you shouldn’t live together in contentment?”

Reuben glanced at her.

“I can’t say,” he replied gloomily.  “That is quite another matter.”

“Speaking of honour,” said Miriam, “you would attach no blame to yourself if you fell below it.”

He replied with deliberation: 

“One often blames one’s self emotionally, but the understanding is not affected by that.  Unless your mind is unsteadied by excess of feeling.”

“I believe you are a victim of sophistry—­sophistry of the most dangerous kind.  I can’t argue with you, but I pity you, and fear for you.”

The words were uttered so solemnly that Reuben for a moment was shaken; his features moved in a way which indicates a sudden failure of self-possession.  But he recovered himself immediately, and smiled his least amiable smile.

“I see you are not yet past the half-way house on the way of emancipation, Miriam.  These things sound disagreeable, and prompt such deliverances as this of yours.  But can I help it if a truth is unpalatable?  What better should I be if I shut my eyes against it?  You will say that this conviction makes me incapable of struggle for the good.  Nothing of the kind.  Where I am destined to struggle, I do so, without any reference to my scientific views.  Of course, one is unhappier with science than without it.  Who ever urged the contrary, that was worth listening to?  I believe the human race will be more and more unhappy as science grows.  But am I on that account likely to preach a crusade against it?  Sister mine, we are what we are; we think and speak and do what causation determines.  If you can still hold another belief, do so, and be thrice blessed.  I would so gladly see you happy, dear Miriam.”

Again he took her hand, and pressed it against his cheek Miriam looked straight before her with wide, almost despairing eyes.

“I must go, this moment,” Elgar said, happening to notice the time.  “Say I have been here, and couldn’t wait for their return; indeed, they wouldn’t expect it.”