The Marquis by this time was on his feet, and was calling for Packer,--was calling for his carriage and horses,--was calling on the very gods to send down their thunder to punish such insolence as this. He had never heard of the like in all his experience. His daughters! And then there came across his dismayed mind an idea that his daughters had been put upon a par with that young murderer, Sam Brattle,--perhaps even on a par with something worse than this. And his daughters were such august persons,--old and ugly, it is true, and almost dowerless in consequence of the nature of the family settlements and family expenditure. It was an injury and an insult that Mr. Fenwick should make the slightest allusion to his daughters; but to talk of them in such a way as this, as though they were mere ordinary human beings, was not to be endured! The Marquis had hitherto had his doubts, but now he was quite sure that Mr. Fenwick was an infidel. "And a very bad sort of infidel, too," as he said to Lady Carolina on his return home. "I never heard of such conduct in all my life," said Lord Trowbridge, walking down to his carriage. "Who can be surprised that there should be murderers and prostitutes in the parish?" "My lord, they don't sit under me," said Mr. Puddleham. "I don't care who they sit under," said his lordship. As they walked away together, Mr. Fenwick had just a word to say to Mr. Puddleham. "My friend," he said, "you were quite right about his lordship's acres." "Those are the numbers," said Mr. Puddleham. "I mean that you were quite right to make the observation. Facts are always valuable, and I am sure Lord Trowbridge was obliged to you. But I think you were a little wrong as to another statement." "What statement, Mr. Fenwick?" "What you said about poor Carry Brattle. You don't know it as a fact." "Everybody says so." "How do you know she has not married, and become an honest woman?" "It is possible, of course. Though as for that,--when a young woman has once gone astray--" "As did Mary Magdalene, for instance!" "Mr. Fenwick, it was a very bad case." "And isn't my case very bad,--and yours? Are we not in a bad way,--unless we believe and repent? Have we not all so sinned as to deserve eternal punishment?" "Certainly, Mr. Fenwick." "Then there can't be much difference between her and us. She can't deserve more than eternal punishment. If she believes and repents, all her sins will be white as snow." "Certainly, Mr. Fenwick." "Then speak of her as you would of any other sister or brother,--not as a thing that must be always vile because she has fallen once. Women will so speak,--and other men. One sees something of a reason for it. But you and I, as Christian ministers, should never allow ourselves to speak so thoughtlessly of sinners. Good morning, Mr. Puddleham." CHAPTER XVIII. BLANK PAPER.