"Then you think father stands less chance of being saved than you do?" "Well ... yes ... I do; because in his Church he does not possess the same means of grace as are given to our Connection." "But he is so good, so kind to every one, so fair in his dealings..." "Good works without faith are insufficient to save a man." "Well, for my part, I can’t believe that _any_ one will be lost because he may not follow the most correct kind of religion. I can’t believe that God will punish any one who isn’t very, very wicked indeed. He is so great; we are so little.... Just think, supposing we saw an ant doing anything wrong should we feel obliged to hurt it or burn it? Should we not be rather amused and pitiful? And mustn’t we seem the very tiniest of ants to God?" "Ah, Lucy! The belief in the fierce judgments of the Almighty is a fundamental Truth of our religion, and if your faith in _that_ is shaken, everything will begin to go.... But the subject is too solemn to be lightly discussed, so let’s talk about something else. Have you finished my slippers?" "Yes, and they’re perfectly _lovely_. A dark blue, with J.B. embroidered in white silk. I shall bring them with me to the station to-morrow.... Why, here we are at the gates of the garden! _How_ we’ve walked and _how_ we’ve talked! And look, John,"—drawing him back from standing too near the iron gates, "there’s his lordship on the terrace, and I do believe the young lady with him is the one he’s become engaged to!" John looked in the direction whither Lucy discreetly inclined her head, beyond triumphs of carpet-bedding to the terrace which fronted the south side of the great house. And there, foremost of several groups of Sunday callers who were taking tea at small tables, they saw specially prominent a party of three: a pretty girl rather showily dressed in the height of 1886 fashion, an old lady, and an elderly man, tall, a little inclined to stoop, dressed in dark, loose-fitting tweeds. He had a long face with a massive jaw and rather a big nose. But though they were not visible at a distance of fifty yards there were kindly wrinkles round his dark grey eyes as he suddenly lifted them from the seated ladies and glanced across the flower beds to see who was looking at him from the outer world. This was Lord Silchester; and John, not wishing to prolong his indiscretion, raised his wide-awake and turned away with his betrothed. He and Lucy then walked directly to Aldermaston, John leaving her at the railway station, where he consummated his breach of the Sabbath by taking an evening train back to Theale, and so returned to his home at the Aerated Waters factory for the last night he was ever to pass there.