"Rosalie, I want to talk to you just a minute, and then I shall go down and leave you alone to think it over by yourself. Of all the ministers we have had in our home, he is the first to betray our trust. Only one, out of the dozens we have had. I put it to your sense of justice, to your belief in fair play. Your finger is pricked by the thorn on the stem of the rose, but you do not turn your eyes from all the lovely roses forever after. The dog goes mad and bites the hand that has petted him, but you do not say all dogs must suffer death. One girl who has been your friend is false to the friendship and betrays your confidence, but you do not deny yourself the friendship of other girls on that account. Many a woman has been deceived by her lover, but she does not shut her heart to love and truth the rest of her life because of that. And many parents have been cut to the quick by the ingratitude and the disloyalty of a much-loved child, but they do not turn deaf ears to the claims of other children. It may be _consistent_, Rosalie, to say that if one of a species betrays you none of that species can be trusted--it may be consistent, but it is not generous, it is not kind, it is not womanly. Think it over, dearest, and I shall come to you again after while." Then he went down-stairs, and stood grimly at the window waiting until Mr. Boltman turned in at the gate of the manse, and went out the stone walk to meet him. "Have you decided about the meetings yet, Brother?" asked Mr. Boltman eagerly, not noting the white lines on the face of his host. "Yes, I have decided. I am going out to the garage--come along, will you?" After a while Rosalie came down-stairs looking for her father, and she hovered close to Doris as if enjoying the protection of her nearness, but offering no explanations, and Doris asked no questions. So the two were together when the kitchen door banged open, and Zee and Treasure, trembling and pallid, rushed in upon them. "What is it?" cried Doris nervously. "What is the matter? Did something happen?" "Oh, awful," cried Zee, quivering. "Father and Mr. Boltman had a fight." "What?"