were gathered.

"I hope, Mr. Emlyn," said Elsie's cheery voice, "that you have
dissuaded Mr. Chillingly from turning Papist. I am sure you have
taken time enough to do so."

Mr. Emlyn, Protestant every inch of him, slightly recoiled from
Kenelm's side. "Do you meditate turning--" He could not conclude the
sentence.

"Be not alarmed, my dear sir. I did but own to Mrs. Braefield that I
had paid a visit to Oxford in order to confer with a learned man on a
question that puzzled me, and as abstract as that feminine pastime,
theology, is now-a-days. I cannot convince Mrs. Braefield that Oxford
admits other puzzles in life than those which amuse the ladies." Here
Kenelm dropped into a chair by the side of Lily.

Lily half turned her back to him.

"Have I offended again?"

Lily shrugged her shoulders slightly and would not answer.

"I suspect, Miss Mordaunt, that among your good qualities, nature has
omitted one; the bettermost self within you should replace it."

Lily here abruptly turned to him her front face: the light of the
skies was becoming dim, but the evening star shone upon it.

"How! what do you mean?"