Roberts's house; "for," he reminded himself, "the
believing daughter may sanctify the unbelieving father!" He said this
once to Dr. Lavendar, when his roan and old Goliath met in a narrow
lane and paused to let their masters exchange a word or two.

"But do you know what the believing daughter believes?" said Dr.
Lavendar. He wiped his forehead with his red bandanna, for it was a hot
day; then he put his old straw hat very far back on his head and looked
at the young man with a twinkle in his eye, which, considering the
seriousness of their conversation, was discomfiting; but, after all, as
John Fenn reminded himself, Dr. Lavendar was very old, and so might be
forgiven if his mind was lacking in seriousness. As for his question
of what the daughter believed: "I think--I hope," said the young
minister, "that she is sound. She comes to my church quite regularly."
"But she comes to my church quite irregularly," Dr. Lavendar warned
him; and there was another of those disconcerting twinkles.

The boy looked at him with honest, solemn eyes. "I still believe that
she is sound," he said, earnestly.

Dr. Lavendar blew his nose with a flourish of the red bandanna. "Well,
perhaps she is, perhaps she is," he said, gravely. But the reassurance
of that "perhaps" did not make for John Fenn's peace of mind; he could
not help asking himself whether Miss Philippa WAS a "believing
daughter." She did not, he was sure, share her father's heresies, but
perhaps she was indifferent to them? which would be a grievous thing!
And certainly, as the old minister had declared, she did go
"irregularly" to the Episcopal Church. John Fenn wished that he was
sure of Miss Philippa's state of mind; and at last he said to himself
that it was his duty to find out about it, so, with his little sister
beside him, he started on a round of pastoral calls. He found Miss
Philly sitting in the sunshine on the lowest step of the front
porch--and it seemed to Mary that there was a good deal of delay in
getting at the serious business of play; "for brother talks so much,"
she complained. But "brother" went on talking. He told Miss Philippa
that he understood she went sometimes to Old Chester to church?

"Sometimes," she said.

"I do not mean," he said, hesitatingly, "to speak uncharitably, but we
all know that Episcopacy is the handmaid of Papistry."

"Do we?" Philly asked, with grave eyes.

"Yes," said Mr. Fenn. "But even if Dr. Lavendar's teaching