‘The love would be in driving these horrible philosophical speculations out of Maurice’s mind,’ said Lily.
‘No one can ever drive out the truth,’ said Maurice, with provoking coolness. ‘Don’t let her scratch out my eyes, Claude.’
‘I am not so sure of that maxim,’ said Claude. ‘Truth is chiefly injured—I mean, her force weakened, by her own supporters.’
‘Then you agree with me,’ said Maurice, ‘as, in fact, every rational person must.’
‘Then you are with me,’ said Lily, in the same breath; ‘and you will convince Maurice of the danger of this nonsense.’
‘Umph,’ sighed Claude, throwing himself into his father’s arm-chair, ‘’tis a Herculean labour! It seems I agree with you both.’
‘Why, every Christian must be with me, who has not lost his way in a mist of his own raising,’ said Lilias.
‘Do you mean to say,’ said Maurice, ‘that these colours are not produced by refraction? Look at them on those prisms;’ and he pointed to an old-fashioned lustre on the chimney-piece. ‘I hope this is not a part of the Christian faith.’
‘Take care, Maurice,’ and Claude’s eyes were bent upon him in a manner that made him shrink. And he added, ‘Of course I do believe that chapter about Noah. I only meant that the immediate cause of the rainbow is the refraction of light. I did not mean to be irreverent, only the girls took me up in such a way.’
‘And I know well enough that you can make those colours by light on drops of water,’ said Lily.