“One can never be too young to be in earnest,” said his wife. “And I did not like the look of the drawing-room. There were several books on the table which I should never allow in my house, and there was an organ in the hall.” Canon Collingwood had been married many years, but even now his wife occasionally puzzled him. “Why not, my dear?” he said. “Because an organ should only be used for sacred music,” said Mrs. Collingwood, “and I have no doubt that they use it for other pieces. Indeed, I saw some opera of Wagner’s standing open on it.” “Did you call there to-day?” he asked. “Yes, I paid a long call there. I tried to interest Miss Avesham in various things, but I had to begin at the beginning. She did not even know what G. F. S. meant. It is very strange how unreal life must be to some people.” “Is not their aunt staying with them?” Mrs. Collingwood could not reply for a moment, for the gingerbread was very hard. “Yes, she is living with them for the present,” she said. “I am bound to say that Miss Fortescue baffled me. I could make nothing whatever out of her. She seemed to me at first most keenly interested in the prevention of cruelty to animals, but when I spoke of the prevention of cruelty to children--much more important, of course--she did not seem to pay the slightest attention. And later, when we were speaking of household matters, she urged Miss Avesham to see that the mulberries from their tree in the garden were picked for making mulberry gin. She asked me if I did not think it was delicious.” “She could not know how you felt about such matters,” said the Canon, apologetically. “I should have thought that gin was not a subject usually mentioned,” said Mrs. Collingwood. “No one can be ignorant of how terrible a curse it is to so many households.” Canon Collingwood sighed. “I met Miss Avesham a day or two ago at the Lindsays’,” he said. “She seemed to me a nice, pleasant girl, and very full of life.” Mrs. Collingwood folded her napkin up in silence. Her husband’s remark seemed to her fatuous. Either a person was earnest and helpful or not. Any other quality, particularly that very dangerous quality known as “life,” was only trimming, and a possible temptation. Earnestness and helpfulness were to be rated by the desire to aid in good works. But as she rose she made a great concession. “If you mean energy by life, William,” she said, “I agree with you that it is admirable as an instrument if properly used. You have not said grace.”