"And what is it to be traced to ?" "I'm sure I don't know," said poor Mrs.Lane.
"Why, to Established Churches, of course.

As long as fancies and imaginary beings are left free to each man to construct or destroy as he will,--or again, I may say, as long as they are fluid,--they subserve the pleasurableness of life.

But when you take in hand and make a Church out of them, and all that, what can you expect ?" "I think you must be confusing the Church with the Royal Academy," observed the Bishop, with some acidity.
"There would be plenty of excuse for me, if I did," replied Morewood.
"There's no truth and no zeal in either of them." "If you please, we will not discuss the truth.

But as to the zeal, what do you say to the example of it among us now ?" And the Bishop, lowering his voice, indicated Stafford.
Morewood directed a glance at him.
"He's mad!" he said briefly.
"I wish there were a few more with the same mania about." "You don't believe all he does ?" "Perhaps I can't see all he does," said the Bishop, with a touch of sadness.
"How do you mean ?" "I have been longer in the cave, and perhaps I have peered too much through cave-spectacles." Morewood looked at him for a moment.
"I'm sorry if I've been rude, Bishop," he said more quietly, "but a man must say what he thinks." "Not at all times," said the Bishop; and he turned pointedly to Mrs.
Lane and began to discuss indifferent matters.
Morewood looked round with a discontented air.

Miss Chambers was mortally angry with him and had turned to Bob Territon, whom she was trying to persuade to come to a bazaar at Bellminster on the Monday.