they were discussing Mr. Vincent.

"Dearest, he seems to me so different from the others," mewed Lady
Laura. "He is such a man, you know. So often those others are not
quite like men at all; they wear such funny clothes, and their hair
always is so queer, somehow."

"Darling, I know what you mean. Yes, there's a great deal of that
about James Vincent. Even dear Tom was almost polite to him: he
couldn't bear the others: he said that he always thought they were
going to paw him."

"And then his powers," continued Lady Laura--"his powers always seem
to me so much greater. The magnetism is so much more evident."

Mrs. Stapleton finished her hot water.

"We are going on Sunday?" she said questioningly.

"Yes; just a small party. And he comes here tomorrow, you remember,
just for a talk. I have asked a clergyman I know in to meet him. It
seems to me such a pity that our religious teachers should know so
little of what is going on."

"Who is he?"

"Oh, Mr. Jamieson ... just a young clergyman I met in the summer. I
promised to let him know the next time Mr. Vincent came to me."

Mrs. Stapleton murmured her gratification.

These two had really a great deal in common besides their faith. It is
true that Mrs. Stapleton was forty, and her friend but thirty-one; but
the former did all that was possible to compensate for this by adroit
toilette tactics. Both, too, were accustomed to dress in soft
materials, with long chains bearing various emblems; they did their
hair in the same way; they cultivated the same kinds of tones in their
voices--a purring, mewing manner--suggestive of intuitive kittens.
Both alike had a passion for proselytism. But after that the
differences began. There was a deal more in Mrs. Stapleton besides the
kittenish qualities. She was perfectly capable of delivering a speech
in public; she had written some really well-expressed articles in
various Higher periodicals; and she had a will-power beyond the
ordinary. At the point where Lady Laura began to deprecate and soothe,
Mrs. Stapleton began to clear decks for action, so to speak, to be
incisive, to be fervent, even to be rather eloquent. She kept "dear
Tom," the Colonel, not crushed or beaten, for that was beyond the
power of man to do, but at least silently acquiescent in her program:
he allowed her even to entertain her prophetical friends at his
expense, now and then; and, even when among men, refrained from too
bitter speech. It was said by t