But come, old man, I won't call you bad names. I know you don't
look at this matter as I do, and therefore I don't think that you are
either mean or contemptible. Nevertheless, we must bear in mind that
honourable, upright men may sometimes be reasoned into false beliefs, so
that for a time they may fail to see the evil of that which they uphold.
I am not infallible. If my reasoning is false, I stand open to
correction."

Laying the monkey down on the table at this point and looking earnestly
at his friend, Tom Blunt continued--

"Let me ask a question, Dick. Is it for the sake of getting money that
you gamble?"

"Certainly not," returned his friend, with a slight touch of
indignation. "You know that I _never_ play for high stakes, and with
penny or sixpenny points you know it is impossible for me either to win
or lose any sum that would be worth a moment's consideration. The game
is all that I care for."

"If so, why do you lose interest in the game when there are no stakes?"

"Oh--well, it's hard to say; but the value of the stake cannot be that
which adds interest, for it is so trifling."

"I'm not so sure of that, Dick. You have heard gambling talked of as a
disease."

"Yes, but I don't believe it is."

"Do you believe that a miser is a morally diseased man?"

"Well, perhaps he is," returned Sharp; "but a gambler is not necessarily
a miser."

"Yet the two have some symptoms of this moral disease in common. The
miser is sometimes rich, nevertheless the covetous spirit is so strong
in him that he gloats over a sixpence, has profound interest in gaining
it, and mourns over it if lost. You, being well off with a rich and
liberal father, yet declare that the interest of a game is much
decreased if there are no stakes on it."

"The cases are not parallel."

"I did not say they were, but you must admit--indeed you have admitted--
that you have one symptom of this disease in common with the miser."

"What disease?"

"The love of money."

Richard Sharp burst into a laugh at this, a good-humoured laugh in which
there was more of amusement than annoyance.

"Tom, Tom," he said, "how your notions about gambling seem to blind you
to the true character of your friends! Did you ever see me gloating
over gold, or hoarding sixpences, or going stealthily in the dead of
night to secret places for the purpose of counting over my wealth? Have
I not rather, on the contrary, got credit among my friends for b