t he looked like a Christian martyr
defying the beasts in the amphitheater, and George, you are one of them.
Between you and your Uncle William I wonder how Esther and I keep any
religion at all."

"It is not enough to save you, Aunt Sarah," replied the professor. "You
might just as well go with us, for if the Church is half right, you
haven't a chance."

"Just now I must go with my husband, who is not much better than you,"
she replied. "He must have his luncheon, church or no church. Good-by."

So she departed, notifying Esther that the next day there was to be at
her house a meeting of the executive committee of the children's
hospital, which Esther must be careful to attend.

When she was out of the room the professor turned to his uncle and said:
"Seriously, Uncle William, I wish you knew Stephen Hazard. He is a
pleasant fellow in or out of the pulpit, and would amuse you. If you and
Esther will come to tea some afternoon at my rooms, I will get Hazard
and Wharton and Aunt Sarah there to meet you."

"Will he preach at me?" asked Mr. Dudley.

"Never in his life," replied the professor warmly. "He is the most
rational, unaffected parson in the world. He likes fun as much as you or
any other man, and is interested in every thing."

"I will come if Esther will let me," said Mr. Dudley. "What have you to
say about it, Esther?"

"I don't think it would hurt you, father. George's building has an
elevator."

"I didn't mean that, you watch-dog. I meant to ask whether you wanted to
go to George's tea party?"

"I should like it of all things. Mr. Hazard won't hurt me, and I always
like to meet Mr. Wharton."

"Then I will ask both of them this evening for some day next week or the
week after, and will let you know," said George.

"Is he easily shocked?" asked Mr. Dudley. "Am I to do the old-school
Puritan with him, or what?"

"Stephen Hazard," replied the professor, "is as much a man of the world
as you or I. He is only thirty-five; we were at college together, took
our degrees together, went abroad at the same time, and to the same
German university. He had then more money than I, and traveled longer,
went to the East, studied a little of every thing, lived some time in
Paris, where he discovered Wharton, and at last some few years ago came
home to take a church at Cincinnati, where he made himself a power. I
thought he made a mistake in leaving there to come to St. John's, and
wrote him so. I thought if he c