"He would be a genius," said Sophia.
"But he must have your face," said Wrath.
"No," said Sophia, "if he is not exactly like you, I shall be disappointed."
"I think," said Wrath, "we must make him a lawyer. He might become Lord Chancellor."
"Or he might be a Cardinal. Wouldn't that be nicer?"
At which moment, Lady Hyde-Bassett came in with some flowers for the invalid.
"Margaret," said Sophia, "if you had a son, would you rather see him a Cardinal or a Lord Chancellor? Because we were just saying——"
Wrath strode away to the window. And looking out, he saw a fair world. How wrong it was to be cynical! As if there was no such thing as earthly happiness. Away! away! ye philosophers of the mud-heap. The soul of man is a garden where, as he sows, so he shall reap. If ye would gather roses, do not sow rotten seeds. Away! away!