"You shouldn't be so worldly, Arthur," she said in a voice of gentle
reproof.

"Worldly?" in some surprise.

She nodded seriously over her serviceable, unworldly brown
collarette.

"How am I worldly?" he pursued, in a tone of one not entirely
unpleased.

"Why--throwing wads in church--lack of respect for religious things-
-and things like that."

"Oh, I see," said Arthur, his tone dropping a little. "I suppose it
was a silly thing to do," he added with a touch of stiffness.

"It was a profane kind of thing," she said, sadly. "Don't you see,
Arthur?"

"If I'm such a sinner, I don't see why you have anything to do with
me."

It stirred her profoundly that he didn't laugh, scoff at her; she
had feared he might. She answered, very gravely:

"It's because I like you. You don't think it's a pleasure to me to
find fault with you, do you Arthur?"