ave gone through this
evening?"

"There is no accounting for tastes, but I presume you like it."

"I am not so sure of that. Give me your arm and let me get some
supper. One always likes the idea of having done hard work, and one
always likes to have been successful."

"We all know that virtue is its own reward," said the doctor.

"Well, that is something hard upon me," said Miss Dunstable, as she
sat down to table. "And you really think that no good of any sort can
come from my giving such a party as this?"

"Oh, yes; some people, no doubt, have been amused."

"It is all vanity in your estimation," said Miss Dunstable; "vanity
and vexation of spirit. Well; there is a good deal of the latter,
certainly. Sherry, if you please. I would give anything for a glass
of beer, but that is out of the question. Vanity and vexation of
spirit! And yet I meant to do good."

"Pray, do not suppose that I am condemning you, Miss Dunstable."

"Ah, but I do suppose it. Not only you, but another also, whose
judgement I care for, perhaps, more than yours; and that, let me tell
you, is saying a great deal. You do condemn me, Dr. Thorne, and I
also condemn myself. It is not that I have done wrong, but the game
is not worth the candle."

"Ah; that's the question."

"The game is not worth the candle. And yet it was a triumph to have
both the duke and Tom Towers. You must confess that I have not
managed badly." Soon after that the Greshams went away, and in an
hour's time or so, Miss Dunstable was allowed to drag herself to her
own bed.

That is the great question to be asked on all such occasions, "Is the
game worth the candle?"

CHAPTER XXX

The Grantly Triumph

It has been mentioned cursorily--the reader, no doubt, will have
forgotten it--that Mrs. Grantly was not specially invited by her
husband to go up to town with a view of being present at Miss
Dunstable's party. Mrs. Grantly said nothing on the subject, but she
was somewhat chagrined; not on account of the loss she sustained with
reference to that celebrated assembly, but because she felt that her
daughter's affairs required the supervision of a mother's eye. She
also doubted the final ratification of that Lufton-Grantly treaty,
and, doubting it, she did not feel quite satisfied that her daughter
should be left in Lady Lufton's hands. She had said a word or two to
the archdeacon before he went up, but only a word or two, for she
hesitated to trust him in so d