wakened in the new conditions. He was
philosophically interested. So deeply indeed did the psychological
features of the change occupy his reflections, that for a time he
overlooked their immediate and crushing significance in the affairs of
another person.

Traces of the old Raymond remained in the promises of unbounded
generosity and assurances of devotion; but Mr. Churchouse set no store
upon them. The word that rang truest was Raymond's acute consciousness
of power and appreciation thereof. It had, as he said, opened his eyes.
Under any other conditions than those embracing Sabina and right and
wrong, as Ernest accepted the meaning of right and wrong, he had won
great hope from the letter. It was clear that Raymond had become a man
at a bound and might be expected to develop into a useful man; but that
his first step from adolescence was to involve the destruction of a
woman and child, soon submerged all lesser considerations in the
thinker's mind. Righteousness was implicated, and to start his new
career with a cold-blooded crime made Mr. Churchouse tremble for the
entire future of the criminal.

Yet he saw very little hope of changing Ironsyde's decision. Raymond
had evidently considered the matter, and though his argument was
abominable in Ernest's view, and nothing more than a cowardly evasion of
his promises, he suspected that the writer found it satisfy his
conscience, since its further education in the consciousness of power.
He did not suppose that any whose opinion he respected would alter
Raymond. It might even be that he was honest in his theories, and
believed himself when he said that marriage would end by destroying his
love for Sabina. But Mr. Churchouse did not pursue that line of
argument. Had not Mary Dinnett just reminded him that this was a
Christian country?

It was, of course, an immoral and selfish letter. Ernest knew exactly
how it would strike Miss Ironsyde; but he also knew that many people
without principle would view it as reasonable.

He had to determine what he was going to do, and soon came back to the
attitude he had always taken. An unborn, immortal soul must be
considered, and it was idle for Raymond to talk about making the coming
child his heir. Such undertakings were vain. The young man was volatile
and his life lay before him. That he could make this offer argued an
indifference to Sabina's honour which no promises of temporal comfort
condoned. For that matter he must surel