“I’m not overstating the case, I assure you, my dear. A man was telling me about one Colenso—he was, so far as I could gather, a first-class man at algebra and heresy and things like that. He was Bishop of Zanzibar or Uganda or some place, and he wrote a book about Moses—showing that Moses couldn’t have written something or other. Well, he took a bit of prosecuting, five or six years, I believe, and he didn’t go nearly so far as Mr. Holland does in that book of his. All this time people talked about little else but Colenso, and his books made him a fortune. That was before our time, dear—when the newspapers weren’t worked as they are now. Block printing has made more heroes than the longest campaign on record. Yes, Mr. Courtland said so two days ago. I think I’ll try some more of that lovely cake: it’s like warm ice, isn’t it? Oh, you’ll not be so foolish as to throw over your Mr. Holland.”
“It is already done,” said Phyllis. “I’m so glad that you like the cake. It is very subtle. What a delightful idea—warm ice!”
“Never mind the cake. I want to hear more of this matter of Mr. Holland,” said Ella. “Do you mean to tell me plainly that you threw over Mr. Holland because he wrote a book that will bring him fame and fortune?”
“I have thrown over Mr. Holland because he has written a book to make people have contempt for the Bible,” said Phyllis.
“Then all I can say is that you were never in love with the man,” cried Ella.
“You may say that if you please.”
“I do say it. If a girl really loves a man, she will marry him even though he should write a book against Darwin. If a girl really loves a man she will stand by him all the closer when he is undergoing a course of honorable persecution, with his portrait in every paper that one picks up.”
“I dare say that is true enough,” assented Phyllis. “Perhaps I never did really love Mr. Holland. Perhaps I only fancied I cared for him because I saw that so many other girls—took to wearing chocolates and grays and kept their sleeves down just when sleeves were highest.”
“Of course it was only natural that you should wish to—well, colloquially, to wipe the eyes of the other girls. How many girls, I should like to know, begin to think of a man as a possible husband until they perceive that the thoughts of other girls are turned in his direction?”
“At any rate, whatever I may have done long ago—”