gland are certain of happiness," observed Frances, very gravely.

Our caller turned his attention to her. He was not a joker, but I think
he was a trifle suspicious. The young lady met his gaze with one of
serene simplicity and, although he reddened, he returned to the charge.

"I should--I should scarcely go as far as that, Miss Morley," he
said. "But I understand Mr. Knowles to refer to--er--church members;
and--er--dissenters--Methodists and others--are not--are not--"

"Well," broke in Hephzibah, with decision, "I'm a Methodist, myself, and
_I_ don't expect to go to perdition."

Judson's guns were spiked. He turned redder than ever and changed the
subject to the weather.

The remainder of the conversation was confined for the most part to
Frances and the curate. They discussed the village and the people in it
and the church and its activities. At length Judson mentioned golf.

"Mr. Knowles and I are to have another round shortly, I trust," he said.
"You owe me a revenge, you know, Mr. Knowles."

"Oh," exclaimed the young lady, in apparent surprise, "does Mr. Knowles
play golf?"

"Not real golf," I observed.

"Oh, but he does," protested Mr. Judson, "he does. Rather! He plays a
very good game indeed. He beat me quite badly the other day."

Which, according to my reckoning, was by no means a proof of
extraordinary ability. Frances seemed amused, for some unexplained
reason.

"I should never have thought it," she observed.

"Why not?" asked Judson.

"Oh, I don't know. Golf is a game, and Mr. Knowles doesn't look as if he
played games. I should have expected nothing so frivolous from him."

"My golf is anything but frivolous," I said. "It's too seriously bad."

"Do you golf, Miss Morley, may I ask?" inquired the curate.

"I have occasionally, after a fashion. I am sure I should like to
learn."

"I shall be delighted to teach you. It would be a great pleasure,
really."

He looked as if it would be a pleasure. Frances smiled.

"Thank you so much," she said. "You and I and Mr. Knowles will have a
threesome."

Judson's joy at her acceptance was tempered, it seemed to me.

"Oh, of course," he said. "It will be a great pleasure to have your
uncle with us. A great pleasure, of course."

"My--uncle?"

"Why, yes--Mr. Knowles, you know. By the way, Miss Morley--excuse
my mentioning it, but I notice you always address your uncle as Mr.
Knowles. That seems a bit curious, if you'll pardon my saying so. A