At present, the room was full of that battledore-and-shuttlecock conversation, in which everything in heaven above or earth beneath is bantered to and fro, flitting and flying here and there from one bright lip to another. "Now, really and truly, girls, are you going to the early services this Lent? Oh, Mr. Selwyn is such a good man! and wasn't his pastoral letter beautiful? We really ought to go. But, girls, I can't get up--indeed, I can't; do you know, it's dreadful--seven o'clock--only think of it. You won't go, Eva?" "Yes, I shall." "I lay you a pair of gloves you won't, now," quoth a mouth, adorned with a long pair of waxed moustaches of a true Imperial type. "See if I don't." "Oh, mamma says I mustn't try," said another; "I haven't the strength." "And I tell Eva she can't do it," said Mrs. Van Arsdel. "Eva is always over-doing; she worked herself to death in a mission class last year. The fact is, one can't do these things, and go into society." "But what's the use of society, mamma?" said Eva. "Oh, well; we can't all turn into monks and nuns, you know; and that's what these modern High Church doings would bring us to. I'm a good, old-fashioned Episcopalian; I believe in going to church on Sundays--and that's all we used to hear about." "Do you know, Mr. Fellows, I saw you at St. Alban's," said Miss Alice. "On your knees, too," said Miss Eva. "Do you believe in bowing to the altar?" said a third; "I think it's quite Popish." "Girls, what are going to be worn for hats this spring? have you been to Madame De Tullerigs? I declare it's a shame! but Lent is just the busiest time about one's clothes, one must have everything ready for Easter, you know. How do you like the new colors, Mr. Fellows?" "What! the hell-fire colors?" said Jim. "Oh, horrors! You dreadful creature, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" screamed in four or five voices. "Am ashamed--sackcloth and ashes, and all that; eat nothing but codfish," said Jim. "But that's what they call 'em, any way--hell-fire colors." "I never did hear such a profane creature. Girls, isn't he dreadful?" "I say, Miss Alice," said Jim, "do you go to confession up there? 'Cause, you see, if that thing is getting about, I think I'll turn priest." "I think _you_ ought to go to confession," said she. "I shall in the good times coming, when we have lady priests." "Oh, Mr. Henderson, do you believe in women's rights?" "Certainly." "Well, for my part, I have all the rights I want," said Miss Alice. "I should think you did," said Jim Fellows; "but it's hard on us." "Well, I think that is all infidelity," said another--"goes against the Bible. _Do_ you think women ought to speak in public?" "Ristori and Fanny Kemble, for instance," said I. "Oh, well--they are speaking other people's words; but their own?" "Why not as well as in private?" "Oh, because--why, I think it's dreadful; don't you?"