he next thing was,
presently--somehow--two of 'em were on my plate."

"Very wrong," said Francis; "but that is a harsher term than I should
have applied to this longing of a hungry woman for collops o' Friday.
Pray, what do you understand by that big word?"

"Why, you explained it yourself, in your last sermon. It means 'unruly
and inordinate desires.' Example: Edith Hammersley told me I was mad to
ride in scarlet, and me so fair and my hair so light. 'Green or purple
is your color,' says she; and soon after this didn't I see in Stanhope
town the loveliest piece of purple broadcloth? Oh, Father, it had a
gloss like velvet, and the sun did so shine on it as it lay in the
shop-window; it was fit for a king or a bishop; and I stood and gloated
on it, and pined for it, and died for it, and down went the Tenth
Commandment."

"Ah," said Francis, "the hearts of women are set on vanity! But tell
me,--these unruly affections of yours, are they ever fixed on persons of
the other sex?"

The fair sinner reflected.

"On gentlemen?" said she. "Why, they come pestering one of their own
accord. No, no,--I could do without _them_ very well. What I sinfully
pine for is meat on a Friday as sure as ever the day comes round, and
high-couraged horses to ride, and fine clothes to wear every day in the
week. _Mea culpa! mea culpa!_"

Such being the dismal state of things, Francis slyly requested her to
leave the seven deadly sins in peace, and go to her small offences: for
he argued, shrewdly enough, that, since her sins were peccadilloes,
perhaps some of her peccadilloes might turn out to be sins.

"Small!" cried the culprit, turning red,--"they are none of them small."

I really think she was jealous of her reputation as a sinner of high
degree.

However, she complied, and, putting up her mouth, murmured a
miscellaneous confession without end. The accents were soft and musical,
like a babbling brook; and the sins, such as they were, poor things,
rippled on in endless rotation.

Now nothing tends more to repose than a purling brook; and ere long
something sonorous let the fair culprit know she had lulled her
confessor asleep.

She stopped, indignant. But at that he instantly awoke, (_sublata causa,
tollitur effectus_,) and addressed her thus, with sudden dignity,--

"My daughter, you will fast on Monday next, and say two Aves and a
Credo. _Absolvo te._"

"And now," said he, "as I am a practical man, let us get back from the