Helpless--Helpless. Mamma was helpless. It was only her love of Mark and Jesus that was strong. Something would happen if she told her--something awful. She could feel already the chill of an intolerable separation. She could give up Jesus, the lover of her soul, but she could not give up her mother. She couldn't live separated from Mamma, from the weak, plaintive voice that tore at her. She couldn't do it. IV. Catty's eyes twinkled through the banisters. She caught Mary coming downstairs and whispered that there was cold boiled chicken and trifle for supper, because of Aunt Lavvy. Through the door Mary could see her father standing at the table, and the calm breasts of the cold chicken smoothed with white sauce and decorated with beetroot stars. There was a book beside Papa's plate, the book Aunt Lavvy had been reading. She had left it open on the drawing-room table when she went to church. She was late for supper and they sat there waiting for her. She came in, slowly as usual, and looking at the supper things as though they were not there. When she caught sight of the book something went up and flickered in her eyes--a sort of triumph. You couldn't help thinking that she had left it lying about on purpose, so that Papa should see it. He stood waiting till she had sat down. He handed the book to her. His eyes gleamed. "When you come here," he said, "you will be good enough to leave James Martineau behind you." Mamma looked up, startled. "You don't mean to say you've brought that man's books into the house?" "You can see for yourself, Caroline," said Aunt Lavvy. "I don't want to see. No, Mary, it has nothing to do with you." Mamma was smiling nervously. You would have supposed that she thought James Martineau funny, but the least bit improper. "But look, Mamma, it's his _Endeavours After the Christian Life_." Her mother took up the book and put it down as if it had bitten her. "Christian Life, indeed! What right has James Martineau to call himself a Christian? When he denies Christ--the Lord who bought him! And makes no secret of it. How can you respect an infidel who uses Christ's name to cover up his blasphemy?" Aunt Lavvy was smiling now. "I thought you said he made no secret of it?" Mamma said, "You know very well what I mean." "If you knew Dr. Martineau--" "You've no business to know him," Emilius said, "when your brother Victor and I disapprove of him." Emilius was carving chicken. He had an air of kindly, luscious hospitality, hesitating between the two flawless breasts. "Dr. Martineau is the wisest and holiest man I ever knew," said Aunt Lavvy. "I daresay your sister Charlotte thinks Mr. Marriott the wisest and the holiest man _she_ ever knew." He settled the larger breast on Aunt Lavvy's plate and laid on it one perfect star of beetroot. He could do that while he insulted her. "Oh--Papa--you _are_ a br--" Aunt Lavvy shook her gentle head.