Eddy said he liked them all, but would have cocoa at the moment. Jane poured it out, with the most exquisitely-shaped thin small hands he had ever seen, and passed it to him with her little smile, that seemed to take him at once into the circle of her accepted friends. A rare and delicate personality she seemed to him, curiously old and young, affectionate and aloof, like a spring morning on a hill. There was something impersonal and sexless about her. Eddy felt inclined at once to call her Jane, and was amused and pleased when she slipped unconsciously once or twice into addressing him as Eddy. The ordinary conventions in such matters would never, one felt, weigh with her at all, or even come into consideration, any more than with a child. “I was to give you James’ love,” Eddy said to Sally, “and ask you when you are coming to St. Gregory’s again. The school-teachers, he tells me to inform you, cannot run the Band of Hope basket-making class without you.” Sally got rather pink, and glanced at Arnold, who looked cynically interested. “What _is_ the Band of Hope?” he inquired. “Temperance girls, temperance boys, always happy, always free,” Eddy answered, in the words of their own song. “Oh, I see. Fight the drink. And does making baskets help them to fight it?” “Well, of course if you have a club and it has to meet once a week, it must do something,” said Sally, stating a profound and sad truth. “But I told Jimmy I was frightfully busy; I don’t think I can go, really.... I wish Jimmy wouldn’t go on asking me. Do tell him not to, Mr. Oliver. Jimmy doesn’t understand; one can’t do everything.” “No,” said Eddy dubiously, thinking that perhaps one could, almost, and that anyhow the more things the more fun. “It’s a pity one can’t,” he added, from his heart. Arnold said that doing was a deadly thing, doing ends in death. “Only that, I believe, is the Evangelical view, and you’re High Church at St. Gregory’s.” Jane laughed at him. “Imagine Arnold knowing the difference! I don’t believe he does in the least. I do,” she added, with a naïve touch of vanity, “because I met a clergyman once, when I was drawing in the Abbey, and he told me a lot about it. About candles, and ornaments, and robes that priests wear in church. It must be much nicer than being Low Church, I should think.” She referred to Eddy, with her questioning smile. “They’re both rather nice,” Eddy said. “I’m both, I think.”