umanity to share in people's social pleasures."

"If they were harmless."

"This is harmless!"

Lois shook her head. "To you, maybe."

"And to you. Then why shouldn't we take it?"

"For the sake of others, to whom it is not harmless."

"They must look out for themselves."

"Yes, and we must help them."

"We _can't_ help them. If a man hasn't strength enough to stand, you
cannot hold him up."

"O yes," said Lois gently, "you can and you must. That is not much to
do! When on one side it is life, and on the other side it is only a
minute's taste of something sweet, it is very little, I think, to give
up one for the other."

"That is because you are so good," said Tom. "I am not so good."

At this instant a voice was heard within, and sounds of the servants
removing the lunch dishes.

"I never heard anybody in my life talk as you do," Tom went on.

Lois thought she had talked enough, and would say no more. Tom saw she
would not, and gave her glance after glance of admiration, which began
to grow into veneration. What a pure creature was this! what a gentle
simplicity, and yet what a quiet dignity! what absolutely natural
sweetness, with no airs whatever! and what a fresh beauty.

"I think it must be easier to be good where you live," Tom added
presently, and sincerely.

"Why?" said Lois.

"I assure you it ain't easy for a fellow here."

"What do you mean by 'good,' Mr. Caruthers? not drinking wine?" said
Lois, somewhat amused.

"I mean, to be like you," said he softly. "You are better than all the
rest of us here."

"I hope not. Mr. Caruthers, we must go back to Mrs. Wishart, or
certainly _she_ will not think me good."

So they went back, through the empty lunch room.

"I thought you would be here to-day," said Tom. "I was not going to
miss the pleasure; so I took a frightfully early train, and despatched
business faster than it had ever been despatched before, at our house.
I surprised the people, almost as much as I surprised my mother and
Julia. You ought always to wear a white camellia in your hair!"

Lois smiled to herself. If he knew what things she had to do at her own
home, and how such an adornment would be in place! Was it easier to be
good there? she queried. It was easier to be pleased here. The guests
were mostly gone.

"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Wishart on the drive home, "how have you
enjoyed yourself?"

Lois looked grave. "I am afraid it turns my head," she answered.

"That