more brains than any of your fine town-folk. Ah, and our old parson
had a good bit more than any one of these half-witted curates such
as you see here in Brighton playing their popish antics in coloured
clothes.'

Mrs. Poulter was very angry.

'Mrs. Mudge,' she said, speaking to nobody in particular, and
looking straight before her, 'has chosen to-day of all days on which
to insult, I will not call it MY faith, but the faith of the
Catholic Church.'

Mr. Goacher at once intervened with his oil-can.

'My leanings, Mrs. Poulter, have latterly at any rate been in your
direction--without excesses, of course; but both you and I admit
that the Church is ample enough to embrace the other great parties
so long as there is agreement in essentials. Unity, unity! Mrs.
Mudge's ardour, we must confess, proves her sincerity.'

Mr. Goacher took another glass of Mrs. Mudge's wine. After the
dessert of almonds and raisins, figs, apples, and oranges--also
supplied by Mrs. Mudge--Miss Toller rose and said she hoped she
might be excused, but Mr. Goacher pressed her to stay. He had
offered to entertain the company with a trifling humorous
composition of his own. She consented, and he recited a parody on
'To be or not to be,' descriptive of a young lady's perplexity at
having received an offer of marriage. When it was over Miss Toller
departed. It was now nine o'clock, and she found that the dinner
things had been washed up, and that Helen had gone to bed. The next