hands of a man like Philip. What harm can that swearing
coachman do, I should like to know, in the street yonder? To be
sure it is very unpleasant, and I wonder they let people swear
so, except, perhaps, in waste places outside the town; but that
is his way of expressing himself, and he only frightens people,
after all."

"Which Philip does not," said Hal.

"Exactly. That is the danger. He frightens nobody, not even
himself, when he ought to wear a label round his neck marked
'Dangerous,' such as they have at other places where it is
slippery and brittle. When he is here, I keep saying to myself,
'Too smooth, too smooth!'"

"Aunt Jane," said Harry, gravely, "I know Malbone very well,
and I never knew any man whom it was more unjust to call a
hypocrite."

"Did I say he was a hypocrite?" she cried. "He is worse than
that; at least, more really dangerous. It is these high-strung
sentimentalists who do all the mischief; who play on their own
lovely emotions, forsooth, till they wear out those fine
fiddlestrings, and then have nothing left but the flesh and the
D. Don't tell me!"

"Do stop, auntie," interposed Kate, quite alarmed, "you are
really worse than a coachman. You are growing very profane
indeed."