nothing, mother, so far as I was concerned. It amounted to
nothing. I did not know what I was doing. I did not think of the
meaning the words might bear. It was to me a mere form, done because
you wished it, and because it was said to be proper; the right thing to
do; I attached no weight to it, and lived just the same after as
before. Except that for a few days I went under a little feeling of
constraint, I remember, and also carried my head higher with a sense of
added dignity.'

'And what is your idea of a Christian now, then?' Mrs. Dallas asked,
between trouble and indignation.

'I am merely taking what the Bible says about it, mother.'

'Which every man interprets for himself,' added Mr. Dallas drily.

'Where words are so plain, there can hardly be any question of
interpretation. For instance'--

'Let that be,' said Mr. Dallas; 'and tell us, if you can, what is your
idea of the "choice" you say you have to make. A choice between what?'

'The one thing runs into the other,' said Pitt; 'but it does not
signify at which end we begin. The question is, I suppose, in short,
which world I will live for.'

'Live for both! That is the sensible way.'

'But, if you will pardon me, sir, impracticable.'

'How impracticable?'

'It has been declared so by the highest authority, and it has been
found so in practice. I see it to be impracticable.'

'_I_ do not. Where's the impracticability?' Mr. Dallas had wheeled
round now and was regarding his son attentively, with a face of
superior, cold, rather scornful calm. Mr. Dallas's face was rarely
anything else but calm, whatever might be going on beneath the calm.
Pitt's face was not exactly so quiet; thought was working in it, and
lights and shades sometimes passed over it, which his father carefully
studied. 'Where's the impossibility?' he repeated, as Pitt's answer
tarried.

'The impossibility of walking two ways at once.'

'Will you explain yourself? I do not see the application.'

He spoke with clear coldness, perhaps expecting that his son would be
checked or embarrassed by coming against that barrier to enthusiasm, a
cold, hard intellect. Pitt, however, was quite as devoid of enthusiasm
at the moment as his father, and far more sure of his ground, while his
intellect was full as much astir. His steadiness was not shaken, rather
gained force, as he went on to speak, though he did not now lift his
eyes, but sat looking down at the white damask which covered the