But Mary had the flame of war in her eyes. She knew what Mr. Nixon's opinions were, and she was heartily ashamed of them. On this subject she could make a very good show for herself, because she happened to feel strongly upon it. Mr. Nixon was a latitudinarian. He would have divorce brought within the reach of all classes of the community. It should be equally accessible to the poor and the well-to-do. He would greatly amplify the grounds for obtaining it, and even went the length of affirming that the mutual consent of the contracting parties should alone suffice. Moreover, he saw no reason why marriage should not be a contract like any other for a period of years. Mary bluntly considered these were abominable heresies, and several other women, not to mention Mr. Ellis and Uncle George, shared her opinion. Even Lady Pridmore, who in her heart was horrified by her hero's fall, was moved to remark that it would be impossible to carry on society on any such basis. "Of course it would," said Mary, with a vehemence that was startling. "For better for worse, for richer for poorer, that's my view. I dare say it's old-fashioned, but I'm sure it's right." "There I dissent," said Mr. Nixon. "It isn't right at all. Our marriage laws are out of date. They can no longer meet the needs of the community. They are as far behind the twentieth century as a stage coach or a two-horse omnibus. Untold misery and hardship have been inflicted upon the population, and it is high time there was practical legislation upon the subject." "Marriage," said Mary, with charming pugnacity, "is the most sacred contract into which it is possible for any human being to enter. And if it is not to be binding, I really don't know what contract is or can hope to be. What is your view of the question, Mr. Harper?" she asked, suddenly, of the young man at her side. The Sailor had been listening with an attention almost painful. But he felt quite unequal to taking a part in the argument. Therefore he contented himself with the general statement that it ought to be easier to get a divorce than it was at present. "I am grieved to hear you say that," said Athena, with a note in her voice which startled him. "I know I am rather a fanatic, but I really don't see how there can be two opinions upon the matter." Feeling very unhappy, Henry Harper did not try to contest the point. But this was a subject upon which she felt so strongly that she could not leave it in such a very unsatisfactory state. "Those whom God hath joined let no man put asunder," said Athena. "How is it possible to go beyond that! I would even abolish divorce altogether." The young man felt a sudden chill. "Suppose a man had been divorced through no fault of his own?" he said in a far-away voice. "I don't think a divorced person ought ever to remarry." "That might hit some people very hard," said Henry Harper, perhaps without a full understanding of the words he used.