Adeline admitted herself to have been a unit of the congregation of fiends. The first sermon had been, to say the least, impressive. Satan’s text had been orthodox: “_A star fell from Heaven unto the earth; and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit._” He had attacked the letter of The Law. To be saved by “believing”--how vain a promise when to that Star of Heaven was given the key to the pit into which all eventually would be hurled who had been born heirs to sin! Over Omnipotent Egotism he had ranted himself into a rage which had made his audience tremble. Fire flashed from his nostrils, his eyes, his finger-tips, as he compared his own indefatigable assertiveness with the retirement into the Light of the Great-I-Am. How dare He sit back, smug over his one noteworthy achievement--the Creation? The Law of Redemption, pah! What were laws that were not enforced--mere vague threats of a future state? He asked consideration of the handling of his own first law as keeper of the pit key. Did he ever delay collection of the wages of sin? Angel worship was forbidden and he didn’t expect them to worship him. But they could fear him and, fearing, must serve him. He advised them to hitch their hope-wagons to that fallen star--“their archangel in eclipse and the excess of glory obscured.” Truly this departure in infernal propaganda must have been fearsome. Also fearsome was Dolores’ wonder over why she alone had not been bidden to attend. Adeline was inclined to attribute the omission to stage fright. M’lord, remembering the standard to which his entertainer had been educated, feared to fall short. Having successfully tried out his “delivery,” however, he probably would ask her to the second sermon of the seven. But what of the two intervening nights? Why this surcease of interest in the griefs which so had diverted him? Dolores was forced to the conclusion that she had ceased to entertain. Perhaps, even then, the evil eye was sighting her fate and the fate of her babe. Desperation shook her from the stupor of waiting. He had preached action in his sermon, according to report. She must _do_ something to re-arouse his curiosity. In the late afternoon, as she knew, he often strolled in his favorite garden of Bad Luck. She dared not ask for an appointment; no. Yet why not “happen” to meet him? In selecting the rays in which to dress, she remembered his preference for purples and scarlets, rather than the more delicate half-lights in which she would have clothed herself. But even while thanking Adeline for a grudging compliment over the blend of her robe with the purplish shadows of her eyes, she realized the depths to which she was sinking. For the first time she understood those women of earth who adorned themselves to enslave men whom they had come to hate. Those they feared most, they must charm. Poor, _poor_ women of Earth!