"No, indeed, dear," his wife protested. "I think you are always impressive, especially at the end of your sermons. That pause you make before you turn your face to the altar--it seems to me so effective--so, if one may say it, dramatic." "To what request is this the prelude?" enquired Mr. Lorimer, emerging from his smile. She laughed a little nervous laugh. Her thin face was flushed. "Shall we sit by the fire, Stephen, as we used to that first happy winter--do you remember?--after we were married?" "Dear me!" said Mr. Lorimer. "This sounds like a plunge into sentiment." Nevertheless he rose with a tolerant twinkle and seated himself in the large easy-chair before the fire. It was the only really comfortable chair in the room. He kept it for his moments of reflection. Mrs. Lorimer sat down at his feet on the fender-curb, her tiny hand still clinging to his. "This is a real treat," she said, laying her head against his knee with a gesture oddly girlish. "It isn't often, is it, that we have it all to ourselves?" "What is it you have to say to me?" he enquired. She drew his hand down gently over her shoulder, and held it against her cheek. There fell a brief silence, then she said with a slight effort: "Your idea of a mother's help has worked wonderfully, Stephen. As you know, I was averse to it at first but I am so glad you insisted. Dear Avery is a greater comfort to me than I can possibly tell you." "Avery!" repeated the Reverend Stephen, with brows elevated. "I presume you are talking of Mrs. Denys?" "Yes, dear. I call her Avery. I feel her to be almost one of ourselves." There was just a hint of apology in Mrs. Lorimer's voice. "She has been--and is--so very kind to me," she said. "I really don't know what the children and I would do without her." "I am glad to hear she is kind," said Mr. Lorimer, with a touch of acidity. "My dearest, she is quite our equal in position," murmured Mrs. Lorimer. "That may be, my dear Adelaide." The acidity developed into a note of displeasure. "In a sense doubtless we are all equal. But in spite of that, extremes of intimacy are often inadvisable. I do not think you are altogether discreet in making a bosom friend of a woman in Mrs. Denys's position. A very good woman, I grant you. But familiarity with her is altogether unsuitable. From my own experience of her I am convinced that she would very soon presume upon it." He paused. Mrs. Lorimer said nothing. She was sitting motionless with her soft eyes on the fire. Mr. Lorimer looked down at the brown head at his knee with growing severity. "You will, therefore, Adelaide, in deference to my wish--if for no other reason--discontinue this use of Mrs. Denys's Christian name." Mrs. Lorimer's lips moved, but they said nothing. "Adelaide!" He spoke with cold surprise.