"I hope, mamma, it may be so, but I am afraid it is true; and every one is so distressed and affected by the intelligence, I assure you it has produced quite a sensation." "My dear, it is impossible; I saw him at church on Sunday, and heard him myself repeat the responses louder than he ever did before; and if you recollect, we talked about it when we got home." "No, mamma; if you recollect, we dined last Sunday with a large party at Mr. Gladstone's, and did not go to church." "Then it was Sunday week." "It has happened since then. It happened one night last week; and as I have been at some pains to get at an entire knowledge of this disaster, I will tell you about it." "Oh! dear," said Mrs. Denham, as she composed herself to listen to the tragical story, "what a world we live in! Really nothing but religion seems to be thought of. Our very servants are becoming religious, and who can wonder at it, when the rich set them the example! And if this should be true about Mr. Roscoe, which I devoutly pray heaven may forbid, there is no saying where the evil will stop." "Well, mamma, you know that on Tuesday week Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, and the gentleman that is on a visit there, and the Rev. Mr. Guion, all went to spend the evening at Mr. Roscoe's." "I have always said," interrupting her daughter, "that there is no good doing when such people get together. If I had seen them go, I would have given Mr. Roscoe a hint to be on his guard. He was taken by surprise, I have no doubt. Well, my dear, go on." "Well, ma', as I was saying, they all went; and when there, Mr. Roscoe said that he would change his religion, and have that which flourished so luxuriantly at Fairmount; and he got Mr. Guion to read a chapter out of the Bible, and to say prayers, and had all the servants in to hear him, and they all knelt down, though I heard that the cook stole out slyly, when they were all upon their knees. She didn't like it." "I always thought well of that cook; she has a taste above her class in life, I should like to have her; do you think she will leave?" "I don't know, ma', but I should think she will; I will ask her if you wish it." "No, my dear, it won't do for you to appear in the matter; I'll speak to John to speak to her. But now about Mr. Roscoe, what is to be done?" "But, ma', I have something more dismal to tell you." "I hope not. Why, this is enough to shock the feelings of an angel. Reading the Bible, and prayers, and kneeling down on the floor with servants! I hope Mrs. Roscoe is not gone off." "No, all this was much against her will, and she is very unhappy about it, and says she shall never be happy again." "Dear creature, it is impossible; but what else have you to tell?" "Why, Mr. Roscoe proposed to set up a missionary society, to raise money to send this new religion abroad."