determined to do so, there was something even in her hard callous heart softer than the love of money, and more human than the dream of an advantageous settlement in life.
THE SENATOR'S SECOND LETTER
IN the meantime our friend the Senator, up in London, was much distracted in his mind, finding no one to sympathise with him in his efforts, conscious of his own rectitude of purpose, always brave against others, and yet with a sad doubt in his own mind whether it could be possible that he should always be right and everybody around him wrong.
Coming away from Mr. Mainwaring's dinner he had almost quarrelled with John Morton, or rather John Morton had altogether quarrelled with him. On their way back from Dillsborough to Bragton the minister elect to Patagonia had told him, in so many words, that he had misbehaved himself at the clergyman's house. 'Did I say anything that was untrue?' asked the Senator. 'Was I inaccurate in my statements? If so, no man alive will be more ready to recall what he has said and ask for pardon.' Mr. Morton endeavoured to explain to him that it was not his statements which were at fault so much as the opinions based on them and the language in which those opinions were given. But the Senator could not be made to understand that a man had not a right to his opinions, and a right also to the use of forcible language as long as he abstained from personalities. 'It was extremely personal,--all that you said about the purchase of livings,' said Morton. 'How was I to know that?' rejoined the Senator. 'When in private society I inveigh against pickpockets I cannot imagine, sir, that there should be a pickpocket in the company.' As the Senator said this he was grieving in his heart at the trouble he had occasioned, and was almost repenting the duties he had imposed on himself; but yet his voice was bellicose and antagonistic. The conversation was carried on till Morton found himself constrained to say that, though he