"In her _séance_? Confesses her sins--that is, so far as I can judge from my recollection of one such occurrence at which I was present when a small kitten, she regales her spiritual pastor with some very spicy tales of all her friends and acquaintances." "I am sure you are joking, Philip. But please tell me what it is that she wants me to do? Is it to go to all her assemblies?" "Precisely, my Grey Sister--and to a few Court balls, and a play or two." "O dear!" sighed poor Celia. "I never can do _that_," "Don't sigh in that heart-rending style," said Philip. "As to assemblies, there will not be above three more this summer, and we may be in China by next year. What is your special grief?" "It looks like conformity to the world," answered Celia, in a low tone, for she did not expect Philip to understand her. "Where is the world?" laughed that irreverent young gentleman. "That superb satin gown of yours, or the chocolate, or the talk? Eh, Patient? What do you say, my veteran prioress?" "In your heart, Mr. Philip," answered Patient, setting down the chocolate-pot which she had just brought in. "The world outside, and an evil worldly human heart within, will work no little mischief. I'll warrant it did _Him_ no harm dining with the Pharisee[4]--not that Simon was an over-pleasant man to do with, I should say: and when your heart is as pure and holy as His, why, Sir, I'm thinking you may go, and welcome. But I've work enough cut out for me in keeping the devil without mine own door, without calling at his to ask how he fareth." "Thank you, Dr. Patient. Rather a short sermon. Celia, my dear, I have a scrap of information for you which will make you open your eyes." "The shortest sermon I ever heard of was one of the most salutary, Sir,--to wit, when Nathan said to poor sinful David, 'Thou art the man!'"[5] "You are very disrespectful to His Israelitish Majesty," said Philip, lightly. "Well, Mrs. Celia, know that I have succeeded at last in obtaining her Ladyship's leave, and the King's commission, to go into the army. Lieutenant Ingram, Madam, at your service!" and Philip rose and made a bow which would not have disgraced Monsieur Bontems. "Philip! Are you really a lieutenant?" "Really. And the best half of the battle is the battle. There is a prospect of the troops being called to active service." Celia turned pale. "Does your mother know that?" "No." "O Philip! you have not been deceiving her, have you?" "Smooth your ruffled brow, my fair reprover. I did not know it myself until after His Majesty had promised me a commission. Of course, after this I must be a fervent Jacobite. So don't you talk any politics in my hearing, Mrs. Patient Irvine, unless you wish me to fight you." "I shall scarce be like to do that, Sir, unless you give me the starting," quietly responded Patient.