“In the cause of common sense one has no objection to making enemies. And I cannot for the life of me see why the highest position in the land should never be filled by a man till he’s nearly in his dotage.” “Oh! it’s more restful. Besides, a great and a good man should retain his intellect to his death, however old and feeble he may be.” “Granted! But feebleness is no qualification for an important post. And greatness and goodness should discern its own capacity.” “Is it true, then, that the Great High Priest is resigning?” “Yes; in a few months.” “He has discernment, then?” “I think his action is a little too late for that. His plea is ill-health. None of us have heard anything further—not those nearest to him in office.” “And then there will come the general election for his successor?” (For in Lucifram they chose their highest priests that way. The clergy vote for them.) “Yes; in a few weeks from now.” “It will be a very distracting time?” “Scarcely more so than the last year has been.” And so the silent plot of years had worked to a fulfilment, the veil or mask at length being thrown aside. To-day was spoken openly what a month ago had been whispered and kept down. Here the conversation was interrupted by Miss Crokerly. “Mr. Barringcourt tells me he saw the secretary again this morning, and arranged for all the things you suggested, Rosalie.” “Yes. He has never doubted my judgment before, but I think he must have detected a foreign influence, he looked so dubious.” Rosalie laughed. “Are they to have force-meat and sausages with the turkey, do you know?” she asked. “It never occurred to me to ask.” “And you an executor of a will! And never to inquire about the gravy and bread-sauce. It’s plain you don’t attach enough importance to a Christmas dinner. But if I were you, Mr. Barringcourt, I’d countermand all orders, and give them 3s. 6d. each, and a free day to enjoy themselves anywhere and anyhow, with a night each end, to make a complete sandwich and a delightful holiday.” “You imagine them to be prisoners. On the contrary, those who have friends or relations who care to receive them may have leave from the Home once every month. And for the inmates, you must remember it is no prison that they live in, and they are very happy.” “I suppose so,” said Rosalie. “But I always dread those public institutions for defects.” “You are prejudiced,” put in the Golden Priest. “They are the greatest blessings in existence. I always regard them as branches of the temple.” “So do I,” said Mr. Barringcourt; but the tone was questionable. “I have the greatest longing to go through Todbrook’s Home,” said Miss Crokerly. “One hears so much about it. I should like to see the inmates at work.” Rosalie shivered. “Oh! would you, Miss Crokerly? I can imagine nothing more galling to them than to be watched by strangers.” “But is it such an infliction to them?” asked that lady, turning to Mr. Barringcourt.