"None of your sneers, Mrs. Huntingdon! I have the sense to see that I'm not always quite correct—but sometimes I think that's no great matter, as long as I injure nobody but myself—"
"It is a great matter," interrupted I, "both to yourself (as you will hereafter find to your cost) and to all connected with you—most especially your wife—but indeed, it is nonsense to talk about injuring no one but yourself; it is impossible to injure yourself—especially by such acts as we allude to—without injuring hundreds, if not thousands, besides, in a greater or less degree, either by the evil you do or the good you leave undone."
"And as I was saying," continued he—"or would have said if you hadn't taken me up so short—I sometimes think I should do better if I were joined to one that would always remind me when I was wrong, and give me a motive for doing good and eschewing evil by decidedly showing her approval of the one, and disapproval of the other."
