“Extend the invitation to me, ma’am,” said the Colonel. “I go to church on Sunday--I have no system, just the plain religious belief of a churchman and a gentleman--my ancestors were not a lot of psalm-singing hypocrites, but cavaliers, madam, from the Court of Charles the Second. But after I’ve been to church to please my conscience and my daughter, I don’t mind pleasing myself a little. I’ll play billiards with you--” The door opened and Ahlberg appeared. Now Mr. Ahlberg was not a favorite of Colonel Berkeley’s at any time--still less of Olivia’s; but it was in the country, and it was very, very dull, so he got the most cordial greeting he had ever had from either of them. The conversation became general, and as soon as Ahlberg had the opportunity, he edged toward Olivia. He was no gentle, unsophisticated creature, like Mr. Cole. He knew that Olivia Berkeley’s polite and self-possessed manner toward him concealed a certain hardness. He made no particular headway in her good graces he saw--and not much more in the Colonel’s. But both gentlemen were hard up for amusement, and each was willing to be amused, so, when Mr. Ahlberg, after a few well-bred vacuities with Olivia, devoted himself to Colonel Berkeley, he was rewarded with the intimation that the Colonel would call on him at the village tavern, and this was followed up by another hint of a dinner invitation to follow. This cheered Mr. Ahlberg very much, for to tell the truth he was as near starvation as a man could be in this nineteenth century, who had money in his pocket. If, however, Mr. Ahlberg had made it his business to horrify Mr. Cole, he could not have done it more thoroughly. He bewailed the absence of book-makers at the races, and wished to know why elections were not held in America on Sunday, took occasion to say that religion was merely an affair of the State, and he too was a believer in a system. When they all rose to go, poor Mr. Cole was quite limp and overcome, but he made an effort to retain his self-possession. He urged both Madame Koller and Mr. Ahlberg to attend the morning service on the following Sunday. Both promised conditionally. The clergyman had walked over from the rectory where his mother presided over his modest establishment. “Come, Cole,” cried the Colonel, who was the soul of hospitality, “here’s another seat in the carriage. Come back to dinner with us. I’ve got some capital champagne, and Olivia will play for you.” “I don’t care about the champagne, thank you,” answered Mr. Cole, “but I’ll come for the pleasure of Miss Olivia’s playing and her society also.” Scarcely had the carriage turned into the lane, when Mr. Cole burst forth: “Miss Olivia, did you ever meet a more godless person in your life than Mr. Ahlberg?” “I don’t think I ever did,” answered Olivia, with much sincerity.