"It was very good of you to let me come," he said, waiting for her to sit down.
Still she said nothing. She placed the red morocco cushion carefully in the particular position which would be most comfortable, turned the shade of the lamp a little, which, of course, produced no change whatever in the direction of the light, pushed one of the books half across the table and at last sat down in the easy chair. Orsino sat down near her, holding his hat upon his knee. He wondered whether she had heard him speak, or whether she might not be one of those people who are painfully shy when there is no third person present.
"I think it was very good of you to come," she said at last, when she was comfortably settled.
"I wish goodness were always so easy," answered Orsino with alacrity.
"Is it your ambition to be good?" asked Maria Consuelo with a smile.
"Not until they are canonised and made articles of belief--unless you are one, Madame."
"I have thought of trying it," answered Maria Consuelo, calmly. "Saintship is a career, even in society, whatever you may say to the contrary. It has attractions, after all."
"Not equal to those of the other side. Every one admits that. The majority is evidently in favour of sin, and if we are to believe in modern institutions, we must believe that majorities are right."
"Then the hero is always wrong, for he is the enthusiastic individual who is always for facing odds, and if no one disagrees with him he is very unhappy. Yet there are heroes--"
"Where?" asked Orsino. "The heroes people talk of ride bronze horses on inaccessible pedestals. When the bell rings for a revolution they are all knocked down and new ones are set up in their places--also executed by the best artists--and the old ones are cast into cannon to knock to pieces the ideas they invented. That is called history."
"You take a cheerful and encouraging view of the world's history, Don Orsino."
"The world is made for us, and we must accept it. But we may criticise it. There is nothing to the contrary in the contract."
"In the social contract? Are you going to talk to me about Jean-Jacques?"
"'No woman who respects herself--'" began Maria Consuelo, quoting the famous preface.
"I see that you have," said Orsino, with a laugh. "I have not."