Mrs. Ward stiffened in her chair, with glances from time to time for Marriott and Elizabeth, in an attitude of chilling and austere social disapproval; then, as if she had forgotten to claim the reassurance she felt to be certain, she leaned forward, out of the attitude as it were, to say: "Of course you sent the reply her assurance deserved." "No," said Elizabeth in a bird-like tone, "I didn’t. What would you do, Mr. Eades?" "Why, of course you could not go to a prison," replied Eades. "But you could, couldn’t you? And you do?" "Only when necessary." "But you do, Mr. Modderwell?" "Only professionally," said Modderwell solemnly, for once remembering his clerical dignity. "Oh, professionally!" said Elizabeth with a meaning. "You go professionally, too, Gordon, don’t you? And I--I can’t go that way. I can go only--what shall I say?--humanly? So I suppose I can’t go at all!" "Certainly not," said Mrs. Ward. "How can you ask such a question?" She was now too disapproving for words. "I can not consent to your going at all, so let that end it." "But, Mr. Modderwell," said Elizabeth, with a smile for her mother, "we pray, don’t we, every Sunday for ’pity upon all prisoners and captives’?" "That’s entirely different," said Modderwell. "What does it mean,--’I was in prison and ye visited me’?" She sat with her hands folded in humility, as if seeking wisdom and instruction. "That was in another day," said Modderwell. "Society was not organized then as it is now; it was--all different, of course." Modderwell went on groping for justification. "If these people are repentant--are seeking to turn from their wickedness, the church has appointed the clergy to visit them and give them instruction." "Then perhaps you’d better go!" Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled, and she looked at Modderwell, who feared a joke or a trap; then at Eades, who was almost as deeply distressed as Mrs. Ward, and then at Marriott, whose eyes showed the relish with which he enjoyed the situation. "I don’t think she wishes to see me," said Modderwell, with a significance that did not have a tribute for Gusta. No one disputed him, and there was silence, in which Eades looked intently at Elizabeth, and then, just as he seemed on the point of speaking to her, he turned to Marriott and said: "You certainly don’t think that a proper place for her to go?" "Oh," said Marriott, "don’t refer to me; I’m out of it. I’ve been, I brought the message--it’s--it’s up to Elizabeth." "Well," said Eades, turning to Elizabeth, "you surely can’t be seriously considering such a thing. You don’t know, of course, what kind of place that is, or what kind of people you would be going among, or what risks you would be exposing yourself to." "There would be no danger, would there?" said Elizabeth in her most innocent manner. "There would be plenty of policemen at hand, wouldn’t there,--in case of need?" "Well, I don’t think you’d willingly elect to go among policemen," said Eades.