"Begging your pardon, miss, if I may be so bold as to say so, I don't think either you or your brother know much about marriage. Your minds have not been brought to bear upon it. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'Thoughts are like guns; they are no use until they are trained on an object.' You haven't had an occasion to train yours yet on to marriage. Now in my case they've been trained all my life on matrimony, and I can speak with knowledge and experience. If a man tells you that he doesn't want to get married, you may take it that either he can't get the woman he wants, or he hasn't made his choice. If a girl tells you that she doesn't want to get married--" Mrs. Hulver actually panted with indignation at the mere thought of it--"She's--she's--well! she's a liar--at least she is in this country." Eola's light laugh was the only reply to such an assertion, and Mrs. Hulver took herself off to her sanctum at the back of the house with the nearest approach to wrath in her placid good nature she was capable of feeling. Then Bernard Alderbury appeared on the scene, causing Mrs. Hulver doubt and perturbation of mind. He was a vigorous worker in the ranks of one of the large Church of England missionary societies, a strenuous parson who held a charmed life against the many evils prowling in his field of labour. He seemed immune to the effects of bad water, coarse food, poisonous mosquitoes and a tropical sun. His exemption was not obtained by disregard of the conditions of Indian life up-country. On the contrary he observed the greatest care in safe-guarding himself by the use of such appliances as science provided. He took the minimum risk and the maximum care and forethought. Aided by a magnificent constitution and an endless store of confidence and hope that killed depression, he preserved the health and good spirits so essential to his particular work. Wenaston and Alderbury were old college friends. When the missionary spirit threw its mantle over the latter, Wenaston, by no means an irreligious man, did his best to persuade the other from--as he put it--throwing himself away on the colonies and hiding his light under a bushel. A man of his abilities and private means should have different aspirations. Alderbury received the advice in his light-hearted manner, and assured his friend that going to India as a missionary would prove his own salvation and keep him out of the morasses of modern thought and controversy.