asia's head. There is nothing wrong in
that consideration--it is perfectly Christian."

"I should say it was perfectly unchristian; but, then, I am only a
sinner. However, Elizabeth, if you can help me to get Denasia to the
sea-side the action will be a good one, and we need not go about to
question the motives for it. I think one hundred pounds will keep us
until Denasia is able to sing again or I get an engagement as Romeo. I
shall make up splendidly as Romeo. You must come and see me,
Elizabeth."

"Not for anything in life! And one hundred pounds is a large sum of
money. I cannot afford it."

"But, Elizabeth, I must have one hundred. I need every penny of it. I
cannot do with less. Give me one hundred, Elizabeth."

"I tell you it will trouble me very much to spare a hundred pounds. It
will indeed, Roland."

But Roland stuck to the idea of one hundred pounds, and finally
Elizabeth gave way before his entreaties. She looked at the handsome
fellow and sighed hopelessly. She said, "I will give it to you, and do
as you wish with it." Why should she now look for consideration from
her brother? He had never yet reached higher ground than "I want;" and
to expect Roland to look beyond himself was to expect the great
miracle that never comes.

He remained with his sister ten days, and thoroughly enjoyed the
change of life. And indeed he found himself quite a little hero in St.
Penfer. Miss Mohun met him with smiles; she asked sweetly after Mrs.
Tresham and never once named the fifty pounds Roland had promised her.
The landlady of the Black Lion made a great deal of him. She came
herself of fisher-folk, and she was pleased that the young gentleman
had treated her caste honourably. The landlord gave him cigars and
wine, and all the old companions of his pleasures and necessities
showed him that they approved his conduct. The Rev. Mr. Farrar made a
point of praising him. As he stood with the landlord of the Black Lion
at the open door of the inn, he said to him:

"Mr. Tresham, I respect your strength of character. I know that
in certain circles of society it is considered a slight offence
for a young man to seduce a girl of the lower orders; but that a
_mesalliance_ with her is a social crime almost unpardonable.
You have said boldly to the whole community that it is more
ungentlemanly to wrong a poor girl's honour than to marry a wife
below your own station. Sir, such an example is worth all the
sermons that could be p