"There is no doubt that women _do_ cling to the clergy," was the outcome of Colonel Colquhoun's reflections--"I mean metaphorically speaking, of course," he hastened to add with a laugh, perceiving the double construction that might be put on the remark in view of the situation. "Now, there is only one fellow on the island that Evadne cares for as much as she does for her friend there, I think she likes the other better though." "You mean yourself, of course," said Menteith. "No, I don't mean myself, of course," Colonel Colquhoun answered, "Putting myself out of the question. It is Price, I mean." "That dried-up old chap?" Menteith exclaimed. "Well, he's pretty safe, I should say! And I should never be jealous of a parson myself. Women always treat them _de haut en bas_." "I believe, sir, that Mrs. Colquhoun is perfectly 'safe' with anyone whom she may choose for a friend," Colonel Colquhoun said with an emphasis which made Menteith apologize immediately. Colonel Colquhoun asked Evadne that evening what she thought of the projected marriage. "I think it detestable," she answered. "Well, I think it a pity myself," he said. "She's such a nice looking girl too." Evadne turned to him with a flash of hope. "Can't you do something?" she exclaimed. "Can't you prevent it?" "Absolutely impossible," he answered. "And I beg as a favour to myself that you won't try." "I have done my best already," she said. "Then you have made your friends enemies for life," he declared. "A girl like that won't give up a man she loves even for such considerations as have made you indifferent to my happiness--and welfare." Evadne perceived the contradiction involved in commending Edith for doing what he considered it a pity that she _should_ do; but she recognized her own impotence also, and was silent. It was the system, the horrid system that was to blame, and neither he, nor she, nor any of them. Colonel Colquhoun ruminated for a little. "It is rather curious," he finally observed, "that you should both have shied at the parsons, seeing how very particular you are." "Who told you we had both--refused a clergyman?" Evadne asked. "Everybody in Malta knows that St. John proposed to Miss Beale," he answered, "and your father told me about the offer you had. He remarked at the time that girls will only have manly men, and that therefore we soldiers get the pick of them." Evadne was silent. She was thinking of something her father had once remarked in her presence on the same subject: "I have observed," he had said, in his pompous way, "that the clergy carry off all the nicest girls. You will see some of the finest, who have money of their own too, marry quite commonplace parsons. But the reason is obvious. It is their faith in the superior moral probity of Churchmen which weighs with them."