Intellectual, isnt it?” Susanna, whilst singing, executed a fantastic slow dance, stopping at certain points to clink a pair of little cymbals attached to her ankles, and to look for a moment archly at the clergyman. “No,” he said, hurt and offended into a sincerity of manner which compelled them to respect him for the first time, “I will not stay; and I am very sorry I came.” And he left the room, his cheeks tingling. Marmaduke followed him to the gate. “Come and look us up soon again, old fellow,” he said. “Marmaduke,” said the clergyman: “you are travelling as fast as you can along the road to Hell.” As he hurried away, Marmaduke leaned against the gate and made the villas opposite echo his laughter. “On my soul, it’s a shame,” said he, when he returned to the house. “Poor old George!” “He found no worse than he had made up his mind to find,” said Susanna. “What right has he to come into my house and take it for granted, to my face, that I am a disgrace to his sister? One would think I was a common woman from the streets.” “Pshaw! What does he know? He is only a molly-coddling parson, poor fellow. He will give them a rare account of you when he goes back.” “Let him,” said Susanna. “He can tell them how little I care for their opinion, anyhow.” The Rev. George took the next train to the City, and went to the offices of the Electro-Motor Company, where he found his father. They retired together to the board-room, which was unoccupied just then. “I have been to that woman,” said the clergyman. “Well, what does she say?” “She is an entirely abandoned person. She glories in her shame. I have never before met with such an example of complete and unconscious depravity. Yet she is not unattractive. There is a wonderfully clever refinement even in her coarseness which goes far to account for her influence over Marmaduke.” “No doubt; but apart from her personal charms, about which I am not curious, is she willing to assist us?” “No. I could make no impression on her at all.” “Well, it cannot be helped. Did you say anything about Conolly’s selling his interest here and leaving the country?” “No,” said the clergyman, struck with a sense of remissness. “I forgot that. The fact is, I hardly had the oppor——” “Never mind. It is just as well that you did not: it might have made mischief.” “I do not think it is of the least use to pursue her with any further overtures. Besides, I really could not undertake to conduct them.” “May I ask,” said Mr. Lind, turning on him suddenly, “what objection you have to Marian’s wishes being consulted in this matter?” The Rev. George recoiled, speechless.