"And Hove's so invigorating," Alicia resumed. "The Sea Wall! And haven't you any interest in your nephews? You were fond of Bertrand, weren't you? You always seemed to be. Are you going to neglect his boys? Ben, dear, I thought better of you."
Alicia sighed and looked like one against whom the whole world was arrayed.
"You're making me feel very guilty," Ben said. "But it's no good. I can't change now. And I believe—if this is selfishness—that a certain amount of selfishness is right. I am sure that one ought to try to be independent; everyone ought. And why shouldn't it be called 'self-help' or 'self-reliance' which are considered virtues, instead of 'selfishness'? Anyway, I must go on with it now. If it fails, I may change my views altogether, or, of course, if anything happened to you, and Paul and Timothy were left stranded, I might think it was my duty to come to the rescue. But not now."
Alicia made a noise as of one who would live for ever.
"Besides," Ben went on, "it would only mean for a short time probably. You're not so settled as all that. Supposing you were to marry again."
"Ben!" exclaimed Alicia, "I'm shocked at you."
"I'm sorry if I hurt you," said Ben. "But people do marry again. Look—well, look at father."
"I decline to look at father," said Alicia. "I think it's horrid. At his age too."
"Well, then," said Ben, "look at Belle. She's not so very much older than you."