CHAPTER 12.
In her occasional visits to her near neighbour Mrs.Pettifer, too old a friend to be shunned because she was a Tryanite, Janet was obliged sometimes to hear allusions to Mr.Tryan, and even to listen to his praises, which she usually met with playful incredulity.
'Ah, well,' she answered one day, 'I like dear old Mr.Crewe and his pipes a great deal better than your Mr.Tryan and his Gospel.

When I was a little toddle, Mr.and Mrs.Crewe used to let me play about in their garden, and have a swing between the great elm-trees, because mother had no garden.

I like people who are kind; kindness is my religion; and that's the reason I like you, dear Mrs.Pettifer, though you are a Tryanite.' 'But that's Mr.Tryan's religion too--at least partly.

There's nobody can give himself up more to doing good amongst the poor; and he thinks of their bodies too, as well as their souls.' 'O yes, yes; but then he talks about faith, and grace, and all that, making people believe they are better than others, and that God loves them more than He does the rest of the world.

I know he has put a great deal of that into Sally Martin's head, and it has done her no good at all.