rench Revolution_ and his _Life of Schiller_,
but that's all. I only came home from school last summer, and at school
we never read anything. I couldn't get many new books down in Galway.
There were, of course, Dickens, Thackeray, George Eliot in the library,
but that was all. I once got a beautiful book from Dungory Castle. I
wonder if you ever read it? It is called _Madame Gervaisais_. From the
descriptions of Rome it almost seems to me that I have been there.'

'I know the book, but I didn't know a Catholic girl could admire
it--and you are a Catholic, I presume?'

'I was brought up a Catholic.'

'It is one thing to be brought up a Catholic, and another to avoid
doubting.'

'There can surely be no harm in doubting?'

'Not the least; but toward which side are you? Have you fallen into the
soft feather-bed of agnosticism, or the thorny ditch of belief?'

'Why do you say "the soft feather-bed of agnosticism"?'

'It must be a relief to be redeemed from belief in hell; and perhaps
there is no other redemption.'

'And do you never doubt?' she said.

'No, I can't say I am given much to doubting, nor do I think the subject
is any longer worthy of thought. The world's mind, after much anxiety,
arrives at a conclusion, and what sages cannot determine in one age, a
child is certain about in the next. Thomas Aquinas was harassed with
doubts regarding the possibility of old women flying through the air on
broomsticks; nowadays were a man thus afflicted he would be surely a fit
subject for Hanwell. The world has lived through Christianity, as it has
through a score of other things. But I am afraid I shock you?'

'No, I don't think you do; only I never heard anyone speak in that way
before--that is all.'

Here the conversation came to a pause, and soon after the presence of
some ladies rendered its revival impossible. Their evening gowns
suggested the dinner-hour, and reminded Alice that she had to prepare
herself for the meal.

All the Galway people, excepting the Honourable Misses Gore and the
Scullys--who had taken houses in town for the season--dined at _table
d'hote._ The Miss Duffys were, with the famous Bertha, the terror of the
_debutantes._ The Brennans and the Goulds sat at the same table. May,
thinking of Fred, who had promised to come during the evening, leaned
back in her chair, looking unutterably bored. Under a window Sir Richard
and Sir Charles were immersed in wine and discussion. In earnest tones
th