CONFIDENCE
"It is not what Wright says; it's what he does. That's the charm!" said Bernard.
His companion was silent for a moment. "That's not usually a charm; good conduct is not thought pleasing."
"It surely is not thought the reverse!" Bernard exclaimed.
"It doesn't rank—in the opinion of most people—among the things that make men agreeable."
"It depends upon what you call agreeable."
"Exactly so," said Miss Vivian. "It all depends upon that."
"But the agreeable," Bernard went on—"it isn't, after all, fortunately, such a subtle idea. The world certainly is agreed to think that virtue is a beautiful thing."
Miss Vivian dropped her eyes a moment, and then, looking up,
"Is it a charm?" she asked.
"For me there is no charm without it," Bernard declared.
"I am afraid that for me there is," said the young girl.
Bernard was puzzled—he, who was not often puzzled. His companion struck him as altogether too clever to be likely to indulge in a silly affectation of cynicism. And yet, without this, how could one account for her sneering at virtue?
"You talk as if you had sounded the depths of vice!" he said, laughing. "What do you know about other than virtuous charms?"
"I know, of course, nothing about vice; but I have known virtue when it was very tiresome."
"Ah, then it was a poor affair. It was poor virtue. The best virtue is never tiresome."
Miss Vivian looked at him a little, with her fine discriminating eye.
46
