"We defend ourselves by trying to believe that they must have friends of their own, or that they would think us patronizing, and wouldn't like being made the objects of social charity; but they needn't really suppose anything of the kind." "I don't imagine they would," said Beaton.

"I think they'd be only too happy to have you come.

But you wouldn't know what to do with each other, indeed, Miss Vance." "Perhaps we shall like each other," said the girl, bravely, "and then we shall know.

What Church are they of ?" "I don't believe they're of any," said Beaton.

"The mother was brought up a Dunkard." "A Dunkard ?" Beaton told what he knew of the primitive sect, with its early Christian polity, its literal interpretation of Christ's ethics, and its quaint ceremonial of foot-washing; he made something picturesque of that.