“Immensely,” he said. “My work is there, you know, and so I have seen a good deal of them. But of course you refer to those under parochial guidance?” “Captain Hurstly,” Mrs. le Mentier broke in, “is referring, I feel sure, to the sweetest free-lance in the world, a dear friend of ours who has thought it her duty to disassociate herself from her home, and even to a certain extent from the Church, because she thinks she can, as the phrase goes, ‘reach nearer to the people’s hearts’ that way. You’ll admit it’s heroically brave of her. People’s hearts give one such shocks when one _does_ get near them.” “A case of hysteria,” murmured the doctor under his breath, “in its most patent modern form.” Gladys glanced lightly at Jack Hurstly; then she said in a sweet, penetrating voice, “There you are wrong, doctor. Muriel is the most healthy-minded girl I know.” “Her hysteria may be confined to one form,” he ventured. “Ah, but you should see her!” said Gladys. Here the voice of Cyril Johnstone broke in. “It seems to me,” he exclaimed, “the saddest thing in the world and the most useless. There has been too much talk about the people’s hearts, too many missions of sentimental women. What can they give the people? Their need, their crying need, is for the cultivation of the soul, and it is we—set apart as God’s ministers—who are called upon, and to whom alone rightly belongs the unspeakable privilege and duty of serving the poor!” Mrs. le Mentier looked gravely devotional and stifled a yawn. Jack Hurstly looked at Gladys, who again meeting his look broke out into a defence. “And while the Low and the High, the Broad and the Long (if there _are_ any long, or if they aren’t all long), quarrel as to who shall help the poor, and how they shall be dressed to do it, what are the poor going to do? And why shouldn’t a woman, or even a man for that matter, go down among them and teach them how to live? What kind of souls are you going to teach in wretchedly uncultivated bodies, cousin Cyril? And if you believe in clubs, why aren’t you thankful for their work, even if the clergy are not asked to take Bible classes in them? As for Muriel and her poor, she’s taught them how to smile, and I actually heard one of them say ‘Thank you’ the other day. I don’t believe an archbishop could do as much even with his robes on.” Mr. Johnstone opened his mouth to answer her tirade; but Jack Hurstly, who had been listening delightedly, clapped his hands and laughed, and he felt that it was impossible to argue against a joke. Mrs. le Mentier rose to her feet smiling. She felt that her dinner had not helped her much; and she did not love Gladys. “Let us leave the gentlemen alone, dear,” she said, “to discuss our short-comings and their dominion. It’s an entrancing subject, I believe—when you can have it all your own way.”