arms of the country by land and by
sea."

"I remember it very well," answered Johnsen, with a smile; "it was just
there I joined in the conversation."

"Yes; you declared that you would never, if you were ordained, mention
the arms of the country in your prayers."

"Neither will I; nothing shall ever make me."

Rachel looked at him: he was in just the humour she liked to see him.

"I bring this to your recollection," she went on, "because I know now
that there are many other duties which fall to the lot of a clergyman,
that you will not be able altogether to reconcile with your convictions.
In the course of our conversations you have expressed many decided
opinions--for instance, about the Marriage Service, about Absolution,
Confirmation, and several other matters; so that it now appears clear to
me that you must either give up the idea of being ordained, or else be
false to yourself."

"False to myself I cannot be," cried he; "I would rather give up my
future prospects."

"But is that sufficient?"

"I don't understand you, Miss Garman."

"Do you think that you would be doing yourself justice by thus evading
the responsibility that your convictions give rise to? If I were a
man"--Rachel drew herself up--"I would go and seek the conflict, and not
shirk it."

"Neither will I shirk it, Miss Garman," answered Johnsen.

"I hope you won't; there are quite enough who do." She looked towards
the house to which they were approaching, and through the open window
saw Fanny and Delphin carrying on a flirtation. Pastor Martens and
Madeleine were going towards the croquet lawn, and Jacob Worse stood
watching them with a cigar in his mouth.

Rachel turned quickly round to her companion and said, "I don't know
anything more despicable than when a man does not dare, either by word
or deed, to declare plainly what he feels in his inner consciousness to
be in opposition with generally received opinions. A man who sneaks
through life in this manner is, in my opinion, a coward."

She went towards the house, and Johnsen remained standing for a moment,
and then wandered down the path again, lost in deep thought.

Jacob Worse said to her as she passed him, "Would you like to join the
croquet? I hardly think it is right to leave your cousin to play alone
with the chaplain."

"I think you might have spared yourself that well-meant remark, Mr.
Worse," answered Rachel, in a tone which made him look at her with
astonishment. "I