"It is insupportable," said the young man looking away, so that his countenance should not be seen.
"But it must be supported. Let the load be ever so heavy, it must be carried. You would not destroy yourself?"
"No;"—said the other slowly; "no. I would not do that. If any one would do it for me!"
"No one will do it for you. Not to have some plan of active life, some defined labour by which the weariness of the time may be conquered, would be a weakness and a cowardice next door to that of suicide."
"Roden," said the lord, "your severity is brutal."
"The question is whether it be true. You shall call it what you like,—or call me what you like; but can you contradict what I say? Do you not feel that it is your duty as a man to apply what intellect you have, and what strength, to some purpose?"
Then, by degrees, Lord Hampstead did explain the purpose he had before him. He intended to have a yacht built, and start alone, and cruise about the face of the world. He would take books with him, and study the peoples and the countries which he visited.
"Alone?" asked Roden.
"Yes, alone;—as far as a man may be alone with a crew and a captain around him. I shall make acquaintances as I go, and shall be able to bear them as such. They will know nothing of my secret wound. Had I you with me,—you and my sister let us suppose,—or Vivian, or any one from here who had known me, I could not even struggle to raise my head."
"It would wear off."