"Well, it seems to me a great shame," repeated Mrs. Seaton, wiping her eyes, "that people should be punished for things after they have been sorry, and have done all in their power to undo them."
"Still it is the way of the world," replied Paul, "when a wrong has once been done there is no undoing it, but the punishment must be borne and the debt paid to the uttermost farthing."
"It is a most disgusting piece of injustice!" exclaimed Joanna.
Paul pretended to go on with his breakfast. "No, it isn't; it is perfectly just. For everything we do or leave undone we must sooner or later pay the bill, and we should take this into account before we give our orders to Fate. I am now paying the bill for the writing of Shams and Shadows."
"But you are sorry that the book ever was written, aren't you?" asked Joanna.
"I should rather think I am; far sorrier than any one else can ever be. Still I was a free agent, and what I did I did with my eyes open, and now that the bill has come in, I mean to pay up like a man, and not grumble. It is only a fool that builds a tower or goes to war without counting the cost."
"The cost is very heavy this time," said Mr. Seaton; "it is bad enough when a thing costs only money, but it is worse when it costs other things."
"Shams and Shadows has cost me a good deal more than money," said Paul.
"I know it has," replied his father, "and I hoped that the debt would have been forgiven you."
Paul smiled. "It is a vain hope now-a-days to imagine that when we go down into Egypt to buy corn, the money will be put back into our sacks' mouths. Sometimes it happens, but only to Fortune's favourites; and I have never been one of these. But if we are obliged to pay our bills, we need not talk about them, if you don't mind."