fering outside your gate you could not
rest until you had rescued it. Can ten and sixpence buy peace, while a
continent perishes? Your creed is unworthy of you!"

"My dear, you forget yourself. You shock me deeply. Such words from a
young girl's lips are terrible to hear. Profane! Rebellious! The
poor, dear vicar! I must ask you never again to allow yourself to speak
in this way. If the wicked thoughts arise, at least let them not find
vent in words."

After this Vanna was careful to avoid religious discussions with her
aunt, but she noted with amusement that next year the good lady's South
American subscription had been increased by half a crown.

Now Aunt Mary had been moved up to a higher class, and the scales of
ignorance had fallen from her eyes. The puzzles of life were solved for
her, but her niece was still struggling with her tasks, and they were
hard to learn. She sat with her hands clasped round her knees, the sea
breeze blowing back the hair from the set, white face. Aunt Mary would
have said that this trouble was God's will--His direct dispensation; but
Vanna could not accept this explanation. It was surely _not_ God's will
that in past generations two people had put their own happiness before
duty. Aunt Mary would have said again that as regards herself this
punishment for the sins of others was "permitted," and intended to be.
Well!--one had only to look around the world, at everyday happenings, to
realise that the Almighty did _not_ interfere with natural laws. Thrust
an arm into the fire, and that arm burns; infect your child with
disease, and that child suffers, despite your prayers and entreaties.
It is inevitable; but the sufferings were surely of men's causing, "The
thing of all others which, according to my light, must most `grieve' the
Spirit of God is the way in which His own children misjudge Him," Vanna
told herself slowly. "Dear, sweet Aunt Mary, who believed Him capable
of things to which she herself would never condescend--all the good
people who look out upon a sky full of worlds, and believe that their
own particular tiny sect hold the monopoly of truth, and that every one
who differs from them must inevitably be lost. Perhaps--who knows? it
is misjudging Him just as cruelly to believe that the ghastly happenings
of our life are of His choice. He has given us free-will; we make
mistakes and suffer for them, and make others suffer too; but that's our
own doing, and--reve