“Perhaps we might at the same time ask Jean Caillaud, his friend. Would to God”—his wife started—“would to God,” he exclaimed fervently, “that these men could be brought into the Church of Christ!” “To be sure. Ask Mr. Caillaud, then, too.” “If we do, we must ask his daughter also; he would not go out without her.” “I was not aware he had a daughter. You never told me anything about her.” “I never saw her till the other evening.” “I don’t know anything of her. She is a foreigner too. I hope she is a respectable young person.” “I know very little; but she is more English than foreign. Jean has been here a good many years, and she came over when she was quite young. I think she must come.” “Very well.” And so it was settled. Zachariah that night vowed to his Redeemer that, come what might, he would never again give Him occasion to look at him with averted face and ask if he was ashamed of Him. The text ran in his ears: “_Whosoever therefore shall be ashamed of me and of My words in this adulterous and sinful generation_, _of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed_, _when He cometh in the glory of His Father with the holy angels_.” CHAPTER VI TEA À LA MODE SUNDAY afternoon came. It was the strangest party. Pauline, on being introduced to Mrs. Coleman, made a profound curtsey, which Mrs. Coleman returned by an inclination of her head, as if she consented to recognise Pauline, but to go no further. Tea was served early, as chapel began at half-past six. Mrs. Coleman, although it was Sunday, was very busy. She had made hot buttered toast, and she had bought some muffins, but had appeased her conscience by telling the boy that she would not pay for them till Monday. The milk was always obtained on the same terms. She also purchased some water-cresses; but the water-cress man demanded prompt cash settlement, and she was in a strait. At last the desire for the water-cresses prevailed, and she said: “How much?” “Three-halfpence.” “Now, mind I give you twopence for yourself—mind I give it you. I do not approve of buying and selling on Sunday. We will settle about the other ha’porth another time.” “All right, ma’am; if you like it that way, it’s no odds to me;” and Mrs. Coleman went her way upstairs really believing that she had prevented the commission of a crime. Let those of us cast the stone who can take oath that in their own morality there is no casuistry. Probably ours is worse than hers, because hers was traditional and ours is self-manufactured.