ce seemed to be becoming less and less of a sacrifice; it
took more and more the form of a duty; would Natalie's eyes smile
approval?

Brand jumped up, and took a rapid turn or two up and down the room.

"I won't listen to you, Evelyn. You don't know anything about
money-matters. You care for nothing but ideas. Now, I come of a
commercial stock, and I want to know what guarantee I have that this
money, if I were to give it up, would be properly applied. Lind's
assurances are all very well--"

"Oh yes, of course; you have got back to Lind," said Lord Evelyn, waking
up from his reveries. "Do you know, my dear fellow, that your distrust
of Lind is rapidly developing into a sharp and profound hatred?"

"I take men as I find them. Perhaps you can explain to me how Lind
should care so little for the future of his daughter as to propose--with
the possibility of our marrying--that she should be left penniless?"

"I can explain it to myself, but not to you; you are too thorough an
Englishman."

"Are you a foreigner?"

"I try to understand those who are not English. Now, an Englishman's
theory is that he himself, and his wife and children--his domestic
circle, in fact--are the centre of creation; and that the fate of
empires, as he finds that going one way or the other in the telegrams of
the morning paper, is a very small matter compared with the necessity of
Tom's going to Eton, or Dick's marrying and settling down as the bailiff
of the Worcestershire farm. That is all very well; but other people may
be of a different habit of mind. Lind's heart and soul are in his
present work; he would sacrifice himself, his daughter, you, or anybody
else to it, and consider himself amply justified. He does not care about
money, or horses, or the luxury of a big establishment; I suppose he has
had to live on simple fare many a time, whether he liked it or not, and
can put up with whatever happens. If you imagine that you may be cheated
by a portion of your money--supposing you were to adopt his
proposal--going into his pocket as commission, you do him a wrong."

"No, I don't think that," Brand said, rather unwillingly. "I don't take
him to be a common and vulgar swindler. And I can very well believe that
he does not care very much for money or luxury or that kind of thing, so
far as he himself is concerned. Still, you would think that the ordinary
instinct of a father would prevent his doing an injury to the future of
his daughter--"