Emil had been delighted by his wife's sturdy attitude. Now that a question of doctrine was brought into the discussion, he felt that the time had come for him to intervene again. "We who worship in the presence of nature are not hampered by dogmas of that kind," he said. "Temptation is temptation, and I for one have never been able to understand why the man who gets the better of it isn't entitled to the credit of his strength and sense. My wife looks at such things very much as I do." "Not altogether, Emil. You know I miss not going to church." "I have never prevented you from going." "But you have discountenanced it, man. It is to please you, and to humor your views that your wife is sacrificing her most sacred convictions," Mr. Prentiss exclaimed with a touch of sternness. "You think church-going of the utmost importance; I do not. There's where we differ. Everyone must decide those questions for himself--or herself." The rector resented the smug assurance of the retort by a frown and a twist of his shoulders, as though he were sorry that he had condescended to bandy words with this irreverent person. "Yes, we all must," he said, addressing Constance. "'He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.'" He regretted the next instant having indulged in this clerical formula, which was foreign to his usual method. Constance flushed at the words of Scripture, then she drew herself up slightly and said: "I am very sorry, indeed, to disappoint you, Mr. Prentiss, but I can't promise to attend church regularly at present. Perhaps it is true, as my husband says, that my opinions have changed somewhat in regard to points of faith. I hope--I shall pray that after a time we may both come back to you." There was no mistaking the finality of this unequivocal but gently uttered speech, and Mr. Prentiss knew that one of the signs of a man of the world is the capacity to take a hint. Though it galled him to leave this attractive member of his flock in the clutches of one so apparently unfit to appreciate her bodily or spiritual graces, he recognized that to press the situation at this point could result only in separating her still further from the influence of the church. "You shall have my prayers, too--both of you," he said, fervently. Then he arose and resumed the demeanor of a friendly caller. But Emil, now that he had shown clearly that he had the courage of his convictions, felt the need of vindicating his character as a host. He said jauntily, "I hope there's no offence in standing up for what one believes to be true. It's one of the greatest poets, you know, who wrote There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds."