Then Glory rose, and he led her to the door. Her heart felt big and her eyes were glistening. Aggie was in the refreshment-room. Having finished for the night, the girl had resumed her outdoor costume without removing her make-up, and was laughing merrily among a group of men and playing them off against Charlie, who was still in the sulks and drinking at the bar. When Glory appeared, Aggie fidgeted with her glove and said, “Aren't you going to see us home, Charlie?” “No,” said Charlie. “Where are you going to?” “Nowhere as you can come.” Aggie's eyes watered, and she wrenched a button off, but she only laughed and answered, “Don't think as we're throwing ourselves at _your_ head, my man! We only wanted to _know_. Ta-ta!” It was now midnight, and the streets were thin of people, but sounds of music and dancing came from nearly every open window and door. Aggie was crying. “That's the worst of the clubs,” she said, “they lead 'em to the gambling hells. And then a young man always knows when he can tyke advantage.” As they returned past the Swiss club somebody who was being thrown out into the street was shouting in a gurgling voice, “Let go o' my throat or I'll corpse ye!” And farther on two or three girls in their teens, with their arms about the necks of twice as many men, were reeling along the pavement and singing in a tuneless wail. XV. Toward the middle of Lent the Society of the Holy Gethsemane was visited by its ecclesiastical Visitor. This was the Bishop of the diocese, a liberal-minded man and not a very rigid ecclesiastic, abrupt, brusque, businesslike, and a good administrator. When the brothers had gathered in the community room, he took from the Superior the leathern-bound volume containing the rule of the Brotherhood and read aloud the text of it. “And now, gentlemen,” he said, “whether I approve of your rule or not is a matter with which we have no concern at present. My sole duty is to see that it is lawfully administered. Are you satisfied with the administration of it and willing to remain under its control?” There was only one response from the brothers--they were entirely satisfied. The Bishop rose with a smile and bowed to the brothers, and they began to leave the room. “There are two of my people whom you have not yet seen,” said the Father. “Where are they?” “In their cells.” “Why in their cells?” “One of them is ill; the other is under the rule of silence and solitude.” “Let us visit them,” said the Bishop, and they began to ascend the stairs. “I may not agree with your theory of the religious life, Father, but when I see your people giving up the world and its comforts, its joys and possessions, its ties of blood and affection----”