"It seems to me there can be but one school in spiritual matters,"
Joy said gravely--"the right one. And I think one should preach and
teach what he believes to be true and right, no matter what his
congregation demands. Oh, forgive me. I am very rude to speak like
that to you!" And she blushed and paled with fright at her boldness.

They were seated on a rustic bench now, under the shadow of a great
tree.

The rector smiled, his eyes fixed with pleased satisfaction on the
girl's beautiful face, with its changing colour and expression. He
felt he could well afford to be criticised or rebuked by her, if the
result was so gratifying to his sight. The young rector of St
Blank's lived very much more in his senses than in his ideals.

"Perhaps you are right," he said. "I sometimes wish I had greater
courage of my convictions. I think I could have, were you to
stimulate me with such words often. But my mother is so afraid that
I will wander from the old dogmas, that I am constantly checking
myself. However, in regard to the case I mentioned to you--it is a
delicate subject, but you are not like ordinary young women, and you
and I have stood beside so many sick-beds and death-beds together
that we can speak as man to man, or woman to woman, with no false
modesty to bar our speech.

"A very sad case has come to my knowledge of late. Miss Adams, a
woman who for some years has been a devout member of St Blank's
Church, has several times mentioned her niece to me, a young girl who
was away at boarding school. A few months ago the young girl