He bent forward to remove a chair which was in her way, and her gloved hand brushed against his. He covered the spot with his other hand as if he would preserve the precious touch. "I found Mr. Ashe at the door," Mrs. Fenton said to the hostess, "and I would not let him turn back. I was too much interested in his errand." "I am sorry if he needed urging to come in," Mrs. Frostwinch responded with graceful courtesy; "but what was the errand?" "Mrs. Wilson asked me to see you in relation to the election," Ashe answered. "Elsie is having a beautiful time managing this election," commented Mrs. Frostwinch. "She hasn't been so amused for a long time. She thinks Father Frontford is a puppet in her hands, while he knows that she is one in his." "I hope," Mrs. Fenton put in, "that you may be able to help Mr. Ashe. I can answer for it that he is not making the matter one of amusement." Ashe could not help flushing. He thanked her with a glance, and turned again to Mrs. Frostwinch. "I do not know or like the electioneering of such affairs," he said gravely; "but since there is a strong effort being made on the other side it certainly seems necessary to do whatever can be done fairly." A few last visitors who had been chatting among themselves now came forward to say good-by. Mrs. Fenton also took leave, and Ashe found himself alone with his hostess and Mrs. Crapps. "Mrs. Crapps, Mr. Ashe," Mrs. Frostwinch said. It seemed to him that there was in the manner of Mrs. Frostwinch something of condescension, as if the Faith Healed was a sort of upper servant. He had himself not outlived the ingenuous period wherein a youth feels that the preservation of truth in the world depends upon his not covering his impressions, and he was accordingly extremely cold in his manner. "Ah, a new disciple to our faith, I trust," Mrs. Crapps said, fixing upon him her keen, bold eyes. "I have never even heard of your doctrine until to-day," he answered. "But surely it must strike you at once," she responded, with a manner evidently meant to be insinuating. He hesitated. He remembered that he had been expressly warned not to say anything against the vagaries with which Mrs. Frostwinch was concerned; but his conscience would not allow him to evade this direct challenge. "It struck me as being blasphemous," he responded with unnecessary fervor. Mrs. Crapps raised her eyes to the ceiling, and uttered a theatrical sigh. "Oh, sacred truth!" she exclaimed. "Come, Mrs. Crapps," Mrs. Frostwinch interposed almost sharply, "you know that Mr. Ashe is right. It is blasphemous, and I feel as if I'd allowed my house to be used for a sacrifice to false gods. If you will excuse us, I wish to speak with Mr. Ashe on business. Will you kindly come to the library, Mr. Ashe." As he followed, Philip caught sight in a mirror of the face of Mrs. Crapps. It wore a singular smile, but whether of anger or contempt he could not tell.