“Yes! It is all faith, Cicely Adair!” cried Mr. Lucas, springing to his feet. “You’ve testified to yours! I don’t mind telling you that I think it is a great thing that you have done. I suppose I’m intelligent enough to recognize what the loose marriage laws are doing in this country. As a lawyer I know their effect on morals, the stability of home, the legitimacy of children. But that a slip of a girl should willingly throw over her strong love, her dearest hopes; a poor, pitiful little bead of clay set herself against the mighty torrent of evil, all because a Church tells her to, promises her heaven if she does--good Lord! We Episcopalians discountenance divorce, but our ministers may or may not marry divorced people, according as they are minded. The opposition of bishops and clergy to their doing so is straw, because there is nothing to enforce it, but you, who were not devout, you embrace your hard lot at the bidding of your priests! As there is a God above us, Cicely Adair, what is the power of Rome that still can make confessors and martyrs of soft virgins?” “The God above us, isn’t it, Mr. Lucas?” said Cicely. Mr. Lucas stared at her a moment, then he said: “And now it turns you into an apologist! Your answer covers all sides of the question, admitting a premise! And the premise almost annihilates the necessity of admission! I will look into it--” He checked himself quickly, and said with a change of voice: “You will stay on in my employ, Miss Adair? You will not now leave me at Christmas? Do you feel fit to resume your desk to-day?” “I came to work, Mr. Lucas, if you don’t mind having me after I told the secret--” “A closed book!” Mr. Lucas interrupted her, raising his hand prohibitively. “I’m not afraid of the honor that would not let you rest till you had acknowledged your weakness. I hardly think that what I know of you would justify my doubting your fidelity.” “Thank you, Mr. Lucas. You are as good as you can be to me! I’ll go to work then, now. May I have till New Year’s to decide how long I’ll be here?” asked Cis, going over to put her hat and coat away, and then dropping into her desk chair. “New Year’s will be time enough to decide,” said Mr. Lucas, also resuming his desk chair. To himself he said, with an inward smile: “I wonder if that glowing hair was given her for a nimbus? There are easier martyrdoms than hers!” CHAPTER XVII GOOD-BYE It was pleasant to come out from the great office building at half past four to find waiting a motor coupé of the most correct and up-to-date type. It was still pleasanter to find the car door held open by a small hand in a grey glove that managed, in spite of its smallness and other occupation, to give a welcoming pat with two fingers on Cicely’s shoulder as she entered the car; to meet a warm smile in a pair of appraising eyes, and hear a beautiful voice say heartily: