o that!" Mary had once said, when such had been imputed to
her. There was no question of religion in it. Merely of fitness. So
inveterate in the older Ireland is, or was, what Christian might have
considered to be the outcome of The Spirit of the Nation, but that, in
this special connection, may with, perhaps, greater accuracy, be
ascribed to the aristocratic instinct.

Something like a sheet of thin ice had come into existence between
Larry's life and that of his aunt. It had come gradually, almost
imperceptibly. There had been a time, after his First Communion, when
Larry had confided in Frederica. He had even told her of the anxieties
he had felt before his first Confession, and of how difficult he had
found it to decide upon the sins that he could, without arrogance lay
to his own charge. He told her that he had invented several crimes, in
order to dignify the occasion. Frederica wondered secretly how that
charming Jesuit Father, to whom, at Monkshurst, she had been
introduced as her nephew's spiritual director, had dealt with the
sinner; but this, Larry had not divulged. There were, from that time
forward, an increasing number of things that Larry did not divulge to
his Aunt Freddy, and the sheet of ice slowly became thicker. It was
"the religious aspect of the case," as Miss Coppinger complained to
Mr. Fetherston, that made it so impossible for her to speak her mind
to Larry about the Mangans.

"Do you remember you advised us to send him to Oxford?" she reproached
him. "I'm afraid it has only had the effect of making him take his
religion more seriously--for which, I suppose, one _ought_ to be
thankful--"

"And why not?" the Reverend Charles had replied. "They say all roads
lead to Rome, so no doubt the converse holds good, and out of Rome
some road must lead to Heaven!"

The Reverend Charles was pleased with his aphorism, but Frederica
could not enjoy it. Not even Mr. Fetherston could console her on this
matter.

"His very niceness and simplicity make him a prey for undesirables,"
she mourned, "and he has that peculiar gift of making every one fond
of him. I suppose it is his looks--"

"Then you cannot blame the undesirables," her rector responded.

Larry's looks had, certainly, a spell that was something in excess of
what may be called their "face-value." Though legal manhood was so
soon to be his status, he had still some of the radiance of childhood
about him. His hair was of the same pure and infanti