Mr. Money's ways were well known to Lady Limpenny. He grumbled if disturbed by a servant, unless there was the most satisfactory and sufficient reason, but he would put up with a great deal of intrusion from Lucelet. The very worst that could happen to Lucelet was to have one of her pretty ears gently pulled. So Lucy went to disturb him unabashed, although she knew he was always disposed to chaff Lady Limpenny. "But you really don't mean to say that you are going to part with all your china--with your uncle's wonderful china?" Mrs. Money asked with eyes of almost tearful sympathy, resuming the talk which Minola's entrance had disturbed. "My darling, yes! I must do it! It is unavoidable." Minola assumed that this was some story of sudden impoverishment, and she could not help looking up at the lady with wondering and regretful eyes, although not knowing whether she ought to have heard the remark, or whether she was not a little in the way. Lady Limpenny caught the look. "This dear young lady is sympathetic, I know, and I am sure she loves china, and can appreciate my sacrifice. But it ought not to be a sacrifice. It is a duty--a sacred duty." "But is it?" Mrs. Money pleaded. "Dearest, yes! My soul was in danger. I was in danger every hour of breaking the first Commandment! My china was becoming my idolatry! There was a blue set which was coming between me and heaven. I was in danger of going on my knees to it every day. I found that my whole heart was becoming absorbed in it! One day it was borne in upon me; it came on me like a flash. It was the day I had been to hear Christie and Manson----" "To hear what?" Mrs. Money asked in utter amazement. "Oh, what have I been saying? Christie and Manson! My dear, that only shows you the turn one's wandering sinful thoughts will take! I mean, of course, Moody and Sankey. What a shame to confuse such names!" "Oh, Moody and Sankey," Mrs. Money said again, becoming clear in her mind. "Well, it flashed upon me there that I was in danger; and I saw where the danger lay. Darling, I made up my mind that moment! When I came home I rushed--positively rushed--into Sir James's study. 'James,' I said, 'don't remonstrate--pray don't. My mind is made up; I'll part with all my china.'" "Dear me!" Mrs. Money gently observed. "And Sir James--what did he say?" "Well," Lady Limpenny went on, with an air of disappointment, "he only said, 'All right,' or something of that kind. He was writing, and he hardly looked up. He doesn't care." And she sighed. "But how good he is not to make any objection!" "Yes--oh, yes; he is the best of men. But he thinks I won't do it after all." Mrs. Money smiled. "Now, Theresa Money, I wonder at you! I do really. Of course I know what you are smiling at. You too believe I won't do it. Do you think I would sacrifice my soul--deliberately sacrifice my soul--even for china? You, dearest, might have known me better." "But would one sacrifice one's soul?"