An expression of unutterable contempt was visible in Mr. Earnscliffe's face as he replied—
"Can you not understand that one should laugh at anything so false and absurd as this species of idolatry in those who ought to know better, and yet respect it, yes, religiously, in a man to whom has been denied the means of knowing what is and what is not true? If you cannot, I pity you; but it is vain to answer you. All I can say is that I would rather have died than have acted as you have done to-day."
"Upon my word, Earnscliffe, if ever any man had a right to quarrel with another, I have that right now."
"Then use it by all means, if you like, although I cannot see what you would gain by it."
"I believe you are right there, and you are so strange a mortal that one may as well let you alone. I declare it would not astonish me to hear you say that you considered that fellow there to be a more respectable personage than Monseigneur N——, brother to an English Earl, and covered with honours and distinctions!"
"Of course I do,—one of them is respectable, because he is true; the other is not, because he is a hypocrite."
Here appeared Mr. Earnscliffe's ill-formed intolerance. He could not understand that men of education and great intelligence could sincerely believe what appeared to him to be folly, and therefore it was hypocrisy. In the world around him he saw so much falseness and self-interestedness, that he became a harsh judge of his fellows. Had he exercised towards them only a small portion of the indulgence which he extended to the untaught and to the poor, he would have seen many virtues which in his sweeping severity he overlooked.
When they reached the shore they saw a party from Sorrento disembarking, and Mr. Elliot recognised some intimate friends of his. They begged him to join them, but he pleaded his engagement to dine with his friend Earnscliffe.
"Even so," they answered; "could you not stroll with us a little before you dine?"