ke a lovely purple butterfly--a lovely purple oriole endowed with the
double glory of plumage and song, and men whose hearts beat in unison
with the heart-beats of that sensuous music through which she expressed
herself, loved her; watched her with ravished eyes; heard her with
ravished ears--yes, as men love such women; until the senses recover
from the intoxication of her eyes and her limbs and her voice. And in
the third act the sweet _Michaela_ came on with her song of the delight
of purity, and peace, and home. She sang it charmingly, everyone
allowed, and hoped that _Carmen_ would sing as well in the last act as
she had sung in the others.

Ella Linton kept her eyes fixed upon the stage to the very end of all.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE CHURCH IS NOT NEUROTIC.

When George Holland received his two letters and read them he laid them
side by side and asked himself what each of them meant.

Well, he could make a pretty good guess as to what the bishop's meant.
The bishop meant business. But what did Mr. Linton want with him? Mr.
Linton was a business man, perhaps he meant business too. Business men
occasionally mean business; they more frequently only pretend to do
so, in order to put off their guard the men they are trying to get the
better of.

He would have an interview with the bishop; so much was certain; and
that interview was bound to be a difficult one--for the bishop. It was
with some degree of pride that he anticipated the conflict. He would
withdraw nothing that he had written. Let all the forces of the earth be
leagued against him, he would abate not a jot--not a jot. (By the forces
of the earth he meant the Bench of Bishops, which was scarcely doing
justice to the bishops--or to the forces of the earth.)

Yes, they might deprive him of his living, but that would make no
difference to him. Not a jot--not a jot! They might persecute him to the
death. He would be faithful unto death to the truths he had endeavored
to spread abroad. He felt that they were truths.

But that other letter, which also asked for an interview at his earliest
convenience the next day, was rather more puzzling to George Holland. He
had never had any but the most casual acquaintance with Mr. Linton--such
an acquaintance as one has with one's host at a house where one has
occasionally dined. He had dined at Mr. Linton's house more than
once; but then he had been seated in such proximity to Mrs. Linton as
necessitated his remot