n her
fair face, deepened to a vivid carnation.

"My likes or dislikes are a matter of moonshine, in comparison with
your happiness. Because you are an orphan, I feel a sort of
responsibility; and sometimes I am not exactly easy over the account of
my stewardship I must render to my poor dead Marcia. The more I see of
your lover, the more I dread your marriage. A man who makes no
profession of religious belief, is an unsafe guardian of any woman's
peace of mind. You who have been reared almost in the shadow of the
altar, accustomed to hearing grace at your meals, to family prayers, to
strict observance of our ritual, will feel isolated indeed, when
transplanted to the home of a godless man, who rarely darkens the door
of the sanctuary. 'Be ye not unequally yoked together with
unbelievers.'"

Miss Patty Dent took off her spectacles, wiped them with the string of
her white muslin cap, and adjusting them firmly on her nose, plucked
nervously at the fluted lace ruffles around her wrists.

"Auntie, you are scarcely warranted in using such strong language.
Because a man refrains from the public avowal of faith, incident to
church membership, he is not necessarily godless; nor inevitably devoid
of true religious feeling. Mr. Dunbar has a strong, reticent nature,
habituated to repression of all evidences of emotion, but of the depth
and earnestness of his real feeling, I entertain no doubt."

"I fear your line and plummet will never sound his depth. You often
speak of his strength; but, Leo, hardness is not always strength; and
he is hard, hard. I never saw a man with a chin like his, who was not
tyrannical, and idolatrous of his own will. My dear, such men are as
uncomfortable to live in the same house with, as a smoky chimney, or a
woman with shattered nerves, or creaking doors, or draughty windows.
They are a sort of everlasting east wind that never veers, blowing
always to the one point, attainment of their own ends, mildewing all
else. Ugh!"

Miss Patty shivered, and her companion smiled.

"What a grewsome picture, Auntie dear! Fortunately human taste is as
diverse and catholic as the variety of human countenances. For example:
Clara Morse raves over Mr. Dunbar's 'clear-cut features, so immensely
classical'; and she pronounces his offending 'chin simply perfect! fit
for a Greek God!'"

"A very thin and gauzy partition divides Clara Morse's brains from
idiocy. In my day, all such feeble watery minds as hers were re