“It is an absurd affair altogether,” Karne said impatiently. “What your grievance really is, I haven’t the faintest idea. I wish you would tell me in what I have offended your people so deeply.” Blatz spread his hands deprecatingly, as much as to say that it was no fault of his. “It’s mostly on account of Miss Celia, sir,” he began with hesitation. “They think you ought to have adopted severer measures in connection with her conversion. And because you have painted religious pictures, and are so friendly with the Rev. Mr. Milnes, they think that you yourself are going the wrong way. They fear that you and your sister will attempt to convert them also.” Karne listened with good-natured contempt on his handsome face. “What egregious idiots!” he exclaimed, when Blatz had finished. “You may assure them on my word of honour that I have no intention of becoming a Christian--not because I have any silly prejudices such as theirs, however. As for my sister, neither they nor I have the right to deny her the courage of her opinions. I feel sure that she will not offend by thrusting her creed upon any of you against your will.” “Then why did she take little Blume Horwitz home and try to convert her yesterday, sir?” The artist raised his eyebrows. “My sister and her friend found the little girl in distress by the road-side; and enacted the part of good Samaritan by bringing her here to be attended to,” he replied. “I do not know what you mean by ‘trying to convert her.’ You surely do not think that she would argue about religion with a child!” “But she hung a crucifix around Blume’s neck,” affirmed Blatz, eagerly. “That was a great mistake, sir. It was like throwing down the gauntlet, so to speak.” Karne looked puzzled and incredulous. “Surely you must be mistaken!” he exclaimed in surprise. “However we can easily ask my sister about it. Will you come with me into the drawing-room? Oh, that’s all right”--as Blatz looked ruefully down at his corduroys--“the ladies will excuse your attire.” He led the way across the hall, the foreman nervously following. Blatz dreaded the highly polished parquet floor, and the rugs which slipped away directly one’s feet touched them. The only occasion on which he had been there before he had executed an involuntary war dance; and he was not anxious for a repetition of the performance. Higgins, who had just brought in the after-dinner coffee, favoured the unusual visitor with a look of supercilious superiority; but Celia, with her usual sweetness, invited him to sit down; and insisted on his taking a cup of coffee with them. Blatz shuffled to the nearest chair, and sat on the edge of it. From the outside the room with its handsome belongings had delighted his artistic sense; but now that he was inside he half wished himself out again. Herbert Karne explained the nature of the foreman’s errand.