verely for what happened last night! He is not himself."

"Miss--Elizabeth! Did you quarrel with your father about me?" His heart
gave a bound into his throat.

She nodded, looking for the world like a child grown tall. Her eyes did
not waver as they met the hungry look in his own.

"About me?" he repeated incredulously.

"Yes."

A wild passion swept through him as he listened to the quiet affirmative.

"It began about you and the Athletic Club. Father does not understand
about your work among the boys. It ended about you and the action of
the church last night."

"But that action was not voted through."

"I know. But the end is not yet."

"Do you think that my relations with the Boys' Club is all that was
behind the abortive action last night?"

"I----"

"Would you advise me to give that work up for a while till all this
blows over?"

"No, indeed!" she declared strongly. "I think----Well, he says that you
are not orthodox. Do you need to preach like that?"

"If my theology is of poor quality, I can't help it. I can preach only
what is truth and reality to me."

"But couldn't you be more careful how you do it? Couldn't you be less
frank, or something? Should you antagonize your people so?"

"I'm sorry if I have really antagonized any one by what I say. Do you
find anything unorthodox in my sermons?"

"That isn't a fair question to ask me. I'm not familiar with such
things. I thought you might preach less openly what you believe so
strenuously. Coat the pills so they'll go down with the taste of
orthodoxy." She smiled faintly. "I hate to see you putting weapons in
their hands."

"And do you honestly think I'd be dealing fair with myself or with those
to whom I preach to sugar-coat my thoughts with something that looks
like poison to me?"

She did not reply, but with a quick look she flashed from her wonderful
eyes a message he could not fail to catch even in the semi-darkness. She
dropped her hand lightly on his sleeve, and his fingers quickly closed
over hers. She drew nearer. He could feel the straying wisps of fair
hair against his hot cheek. His emotions taxed all his powers of
self-control.

"We must be going," she said, rising. "Oh, I forgot your foot! You must
wait here till I send the trap for you along the beach."

"Don't do that. I'll get on very well, if you'll help me a little."

"Please, wait till I send Debbs. You'll hurt yourself."

"Your father might object to my riding in his