de of our acquaintance. Had you recognized that she
was a woman with as good a right as you to know the truth concerning all
matters in this world which she has to make her way through, you would
have answered her question, and then I suppose I should have gone away
without having exchanged a word with her on any more personal matters
than induction coils and ohms of resistance; and in all probability you
would have been spared the necessity of having me for a brother-in-law."

"Well, sir," said the Rev. George dejectedly, "if what you say be true,
I cannot understand Marian, I can only grieve for her. I shall not argue
with you on the nature of the influence you have obtained over her. I
shall speak to her myself; since you will not hear me."

"That is hardly fair. I have heard you, and am willing to hear more, if
you have anything new to urge."

"You have certainly listened to my voice, Mr. Conolly. But I fear I have
used it to very little purpose."

"You will fail equally with Marian, believe me. Even I, whose ability to
exercise influence you admit, never obtained the least over my own
sister. She knew me too well on my worst side and not at all on my best.
If, as I presume, your father has tried in vain, what hope is there for
you?"

"Only my humble trust that a priest may be blessed in his appeal to duty
even where a father's appeal to natural affection has been disregarded."

"Well, well," said Conolly, kindly, rising as his visitor disconsolately
prepared to go, "you can try. _I_ got on by dint of dogged faith in
myself."

"And I get on by lowly faith in my Master. I would I could imbue you
with the same feeling!"

Conolly shook his head; and they went downstairs in silence. "Hallo!"
said he, as he opened the door, "it is raining. Let me lend you a coat."

"Thank you, no. Not at all. Good-night," said the clergyman, quickly,
and hastened away through the rain from Conolly's civilities.

When he arrived at Westbourne Terrace, there was a cab waiting before
the house. The door was opened to him by Marian's maid, who was dressed
for walking.

"Master is in the drawing-room, sir, with Miss McQuinch," she said,
meaning, evidently, "Look out for squalls."

He went upstairs, and found Elinor, with her hat on, standing by the
pianoforte, with battle in her nostrils. Mr. Lind, looking perplexed
and angry, was opposite to her.

"George," said Mr. Lind, "close the door. Do you know the latest news?"

"No."