be there to object."

"The sermon will be personal, then?"

"No, it won't. I shan't even allude to the subject of fishing. I
shall preach in such a way as to get at everybody who has ever
quarrelled with anybody else. After listening to what I say, you will
be much more inclined to take Simpkins out in the _Spindrift_."

Meldon's sermon was all that he boasted. He chose as his text a verse
out of the Book of Proverbs which compares any one who meddles
unnecessarily with strife to a man who takes a dog by the ears. He
spoke feelingly, from what appeared to be the recollection of
unpleasant experience, of the way in which spirited dogs behave when
any one takes them forcibly by the ears. He explained in a short
parenthesis the best way of dealing with dog-fights. He also described
in simple language the consequences which result from being
bitten--consequences which range from hydrophobia and tetanus down to
simple blood-poisoning. Then he passed on to show that human bites,
inflicted, so he said, oftener with the tongue than with the teeth,
were far more dangerous than those of dogs. The congregation became
greatly interested at this point, and allowed themselves to be swept
forward by a violent sophism which carried the preacher far beyond the
original statement of Solomon. All quarrelling, not merely interfering
with existing quarrels of long standing, was denounced in forcible
language. Major Kent felt uncomfortable; then, as the preacher worked
himself up, resentful. Finally, he was cowed. Meldon seized the
psychological moment and closed his discourse with a quotation from the
poetry of Dr. Watts. He made a remarkably apposite citation of the
well-known lines which exonerate dogs, bears, and lions from any blame
when they bark, bite, growl, or fight, and emphasised the entirely
different position of the human race.

Major Kent, bruised by the vigour of his friend's eloquence, accosted
Miss King in the church porch after service; apologised for not having
formally called on her; and invited her to go yachting with him next
day in the _Spindrift_. Miss King accepted the invitation, and then,
worked up perhaps to an unusual pitch of friendliness by the sermon,
asked the Major to go back to Ballymoy House with her for luncheon.
Meldon appeared from the door of the vestry room and urged the Major to
accept the invitation.

"As I expected," he said, "Simpkins wasn't in church.--How do you do,
Miss Ki