e
fantastic mission in some outlandish place or other?"

"Why? Because she loves a man whose duty calls him there," exclaimed
Helen, her grey eyes glowing.

"Bravo!" replied Brown. "If I see a Western missionary wanting a
helpmeet--that's the proper word, I believe--I shall know where to send
him."

"Nonsense," cried Mrs. Fairbanks quite crossly, "but surely we need not
discuss the question any further."

"Well, if I may offer an opinion," said The Don in a deliberate,
strained voice, "that country is the place for men with enterprise who
believe in themselves, and I think no man is throwing his prospects
away who identifies himself with it--nor woman either, for that matter.
And what is true of other professions ought to be true of the ministry."

"I agree," cried Brown, adding wickedly, "just the spot for you, Lloyd."

"Why, I should like nothing better," said Lloyd, "if circumstances
indicated that my work lay there."

"Well, well, what's come to you all?" cried Mrs. Fairbanks, holding up
her jewelled hands in despair.

"The Occidental microbe," suggested Brown.

"And the monumental nonsense it is," said Mrs. Fairbanks, "for men of
high culture and special training to lose themselves in such a country
as that."

"But," persisted Brown, "they say that that's the very place for such
men. Why, that country is full of high-class chaps--University grads,
Lords, Dukes, and such, as well as the professional gambler, and other
highly technical experts. The Superintendent declared to-night he
wouldn't have any but high-class men hence, Lloyd!" and Brown waved his
hand toward that gentleman.

"I have no doubt," said Mrs. Fairbanks with severe deliberation, "that
Mr. Lloyd has the good sense to perceive that his special training fits
him for something quite different, and I think he will not be mad
enough to throw away his brilliant prospects in any such silly manner.
But come, let us have some music. Mr. Lloyd, you and Betty sing
something for us."

As they moved to the piano, Brown looked up at The Don. His handsome,
haughty face was set hard and in his eyes burned a light that Brown had
often seen there on the football field.

"He's going to tackle and tackle hard, too, poor old chap. Not much
chance, though, against that combination of Church and State."

"Oh, that we two were Maying," sang Lloyd in his fine tenor voice, with
Betty responding in like sentiment.

"Well, I rather hope not," muttered Brown