The evening passed pleasantly and calmly enough, all parties seeming to enjoy themselves: even poor Colin coming out his brilliantest and best; and making himself quite at home with us. Though he got into a little disgrace before going away, by saying something which irritated papa; and which made me glad that the little conversation this morning between Doctor Urquhart and myself had been not in family conclave, but private. Colin was speaking of the sermon, and how “shocked” his mother had been at its pleading against capital punishment. “Against capital punishment, did you say?”--cried papa. “Did my curate bring this disgraceful subject into my pulpit in order to speak against the law of the land--the law of God?--Girls, why did you not tell me. Dora, remind me I must see the young man to-morrow.” I was mortally afraid this would end in the poor young man's summary dismissal; for papa never allows any “new-fangled notions” in his curates; they must think and preach as he does--or quit. I pleaded a little for this one, who has a brother and sister dependent on him, lodging in the village; and, as far as I dared and could, I pleaded for his sermon. Colin tried to aid me, honest fellow, backing my words, every one, with the most eager asseverations--well-meant, though they did not exactly help the argument. “Dora,” cried papa, in utmost astonishment, “what do you mean?” “Miss Dora's quite right: she always is,”--said Colin, stoutly. “I don't think anybody ever ought to be hanged; least of all a poor fellow who, like--” he mentioned the name, but I forget it--it was the case that has been so much in the newspapers--“killed another fellow out of jealousy--or in a passion--or being drunk--which was it? I say, Urquhart--Treherne--won't you bear me out?” “In what?” asked Augustus, laughing. “That many a man has sometimes felt inclined to commit murder?--I have myself--ha! ha!--and many a poor devil is kicked out of the world dancing upon nothing, who isn't a bit worse, may be better, than a great many young scoundrels who die unhung. That's truth, Mr. Johnston, though I say it.”