ite and
sharp-toothed ferrets. Then he looked as suspiciously at the hand
which Albert at last extended to him. He shook it slightly, and
said:

"Take a seat."

"I'm afraid I'm disturbing you in your reading," said Albert, still
having the drawn, excited smile on his face.

"Well--" said James Houghton. "The light is fading."

Alvina came in with the flowers in a jar. She set them on the table.

"Haven't they a lovely scent?" she said.

"Do you think so?" he replied, again with the excited smile. There
was a pause. Albert, rather embarrassed, reached forward, saying:

"May I see what you're reading!" And he turned over the book.
"'Tommy and Grizel!' Oh yes! What do you think of it?"

"Well," said James, "I am only in the beginning."

"I think it's interesting, myself," said Albert, "as a study of a
man who can't get away from himself. You meet a lot of people like
that. What I wonder is why they find it such a drawback."

"Find what a drawback?" asked James.

"Not being able to get away from themselves. That
self-consciousness. It hampers them, and interferes with their power
of action. Now I wonder why self-consciousness should hinder a man
in his action? Why does it cause misgiving? I think I'm
self-conscious, but I don't think I have so many misgivings. I don't
see that they're necessary."

"Certainly I think Tommy is a weak character. I believe he's a
despicable character," said James.

"No, I don't know so much about that," said Albert. "I shouldn't say
weak, exactly. He's only weak in one direction. No, what I wonder is
why he feels guilty. If you feel self-conscious, there's no need to
feel guilty about it, is there?"

He stared with his strange, smiling stare at James.

"I shouldn't say so," replied James. "But if a man never knows his
own mind, he certainly can't be much of a man."

"I don't see it," replied Albert. "What's the matter is that he
feels guilty for not knowing his own mind. That's the unnecessary
part. The guilty feeling--"

Albert seemed insistent on this point, which had no particular
interest for James.

"Where we've got to make a change," said Albert, "is in the feeling
that other people have a right to tell us what we ought to feel and
do. Nobody knows what another man ought to feel. Every man has his
own special feelings, and his own right to them. That's where it is
with education. You ought not to want all your children to feel
alike. Their natures are all differen