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ng--softly, and with a delicate and rather old-fashioned choice of words, but certainly with no lack of animation. And it was quite evident to an inquisitive aunt with a notorious gift for match making that the tired heretic with the patches of coal dust on his coat found her very attractive.
But as the clock struck six Meynell sprang up.
"I must go. Miss Elsmere"--he looked toward her--"has kindly promised to take me on to see your sister at the Cottage--and after to-day I may not have another opportunity." He hesitated, considering his hostess--then burst out: "You were at church last Sunday--I know--I saw you. I want to tell you--that you have a church quite as near to you as the parish church, where everything is quite orthodox--the church at Haddon End. I wish I could have warned you. I--I did ask Miss Elsmere to warn her mother."
Rose looked at the carpet.
"You needn't pity us," she said, demurely. "Hugh wants to talk to you dreadfully. But--I am afraid I am a Gallio."
"Of course--you don't need to be told--it was all a deliberate defiance of the law--in order to raise vital questions. We have never done anything half so bad before. We determined on it at a public meeting last week, and we gave Barron and his friends full warning."
"In short, it is revolution," said Manvers, rubbing his hands gently, "and you don't pretend that it isn't."
"It is revolution!" said Meynell, nodding. "Or a forlorn hope! The laymen in the Church want a real franchise--a citizenship they can exercise--and a law of their own making!"
There was silence a moment. Mary Elsmere took up her hat, and kissed her aunt; Meynell made his farewells, and followed the girl's lead into the garden.
Mrs. Flaxman and Manvers watched them open the gate of the park and disappear behind a rising ground. Then the two spectators turned to each other by a common impulse, smiling at the same thought. Mrs. Flaxman's smile, however, was almost immediately drowned in a real concern. She clasped