Mrs. Judson herself was a magnificent type of this class; a pillar of strength—the salt of the earth—an angel of mercy, and all that sort of thing, was the stately lady of that stately house. No wonder her followers thought so, for she moved among them like an empress, subdued and thoughtful over the shortcomings of her fellow-creatures. The heavy moire-antique had a solemn rustle in it, and the filmy bow that should have fallen like a gossamer on her head, looked stiff and hard when it came in contact with her face. In her person this lady embodied the two social elements that surrounded her. She was religiously fashionable and fashionably religious—stooping down to the good souls that worked out their own charities, with sublime condescension, and sweeping her transcendent virtues through the walks of the upper ten thousand with wonderful effect. This evening Mrs. Judson was surrounded by her worshippers from both stratas of social life; no wonder her somewhat faded cheeks grew red and her bearing more stately. Was she not at that hour about to distribute a large sum of money partly won by her own great social influence? Had not that incongruous assembly mingled and harmonized around her from the cohesion of this gold, rescued from the wickedness of a ball-room? In their pious enthusiasm had they not forced contributions from the worldliness of the worldly? Heartless people had danced and flirted, drank wine and eaten daintily, that she might carry the results to the foot-stool of the Lord, and with a hand on her heart, thank Him that she was not like those people.