onclusions. She
thought very little of what one commonly called sins, and her
indignation seemed aroused by nothing but cruelty and treachery. It
became clear to Howard that Mr. Sandys and Mrs. Graves had been very
wise in the matter, and that Maud had not been brought up in any silly
ignorance of human frailty. Her religion was equally a surprise to him.
He had thought that a girl brought up as Maud had been would be sure to
hold a tissue of accepted beliefs which he must be careful not to
disturb. But here again she seemed to have little but a few fine
principles, set in a simple Christian framework. They were talking
about this one day, and Maud laughed at something he said.

"You need not be so cautious," she said, "though I like you to be
cautious--you are afraid of hurting me; but you won't do that! Cousin
Anne taught me long ago that it was no use believing anything unless
you understood more or less where it was leading you. It's no good
pretending to know. Cousin Anne once said to me that one had to choose
between science and superstition. I don't know anything about science,
but I'm not superstitious."

"Yes," said Howard, "I see--I won't be fussy any more; I will just
speak as I think. You are wiser than the aged, child! You will have to
help me out. I am a mass of crusted prejudices, I find; but you are
melting them all away. What beats me is how you found it all out."

Thus the hours they spent together became to Howard not only a source
of joy, but an extraordinary simplification of everything. Maud seemed
to have lived an absolutely uncalculating life, without any idea of
making any position for herself at all; and it sickened Howard to think
how so much of his own existence had been devoted to getting on the
right side of people, driving them on a light rein, keeping them deftly
in his own control. Maud laughed at this description of himself, and
said, "Yes, but of course that was your business. I should have been a
very tiresome kind of Don; we don't either of us want to punish people,
but I want to alter them. I can't bear stupid people, I think. I had
rather people were clever and unsatisfactory than dull and good. If
they are dull there's no reason for their being good. I like people to
have reasons!"

They talked--how often they did that!--about the complications that had
beset them.

"The one thing I can't make out," said Maud, "is how or why you ever
thought I cared for that little boy. He w