In the course of their argument it transpired that Miss Rice went to neither church nor chapel. Fred was much shocked. "I hope," he said, "you do not follow your mistress's example." Esther admitted she had for some time past neglected her religion. Fred went so far as to suggest that she ought to leave her present situation and enter a truly religious family. "I owe her too much ever to think of leaving her. And it has nothing to do with her if I haven't thought as much about the Lord as I ought to have. It's the first place I've been in where there was time for religion." This answer seemed to satisfy Fred. "Where used you to go?" "My people--father and mother--belonged to the Brethren." "To the Close or the Open?" "I don't remember; I was only a little child at the time." "I'm a Plymouth Brother." "Well, that is strange." "Remember that it is only through belief in our Lord, in the sacrifice of the Cross, that we can be saved." "Yes, I believe that." The avowal seemed to have brought them strangely near to each other, and on the following Sunday Fred took Esther to meeting, and introduced her as one who had strayed, but who had never ceased to be one of them. She had not been to meeting since she was a little child; and the bare room and bare dogma, in such immediate accordance with her own nature--were they not associated with memories of home, of father and mother, of all that had gone?--touched her with a human delight that seemed to reach to the roots of her nature. It was Fred who preached; and he spoke of the second coming of Christ, when the faithful would be carried away in clouds of glory, of the rapine and carnage to which the world would be delivered up before final absorption in everlasting hell; and a sensation of dreadful awe passed over the listening faces; a young girl who sat with closed eyes put out her hand to assure herself that Esther was still there--that she had not been carried away in glory. As they walked home, Esther told Fred that she had not been so happy for a long time. He pressed her hand, and thanked her with a look in which appeared all his soul; she was his for ever and ever; nothing could wholly disassociate them; he had saved her soul. His exaltation moved her to wonder. But her own innate faith, though incapable of these exaltations, had supported her during many a troublous year. Fred would want her to come to meeting with him next Sunday, and she was going to Dulwich. Sooner or later he would find out that she had a child, then she would see him no more. It were better that she should tell him than that he should hear it from others. But she felt she could not bear the humiliation, the shame; and she wished they had never met. That child came between her and every possible happiness.... It were better to break off with Fred. But what excuse could she give? Everything went wrong with her. He might ask her to marry him, then she would have to tell him.