udith
Lisle had once touched his faint dream of a woman who should be brave
with sweet heroism, tender and true. They had scarcely exchanged a
dozen words in their lives, but he had said to himself, "If I were an
artist I would paint my ideal with a face like that;" and the memory,
with its underlying poetry, sprang to life again as his glance
encountered hers. Percival felt the vague poem, though Bertie was at
his elbow chattering about shops, and though he himself had hardly got
over the intolerable remembrance of that smut.

When they were in the street Miss Lisle looked eagerly about her,
and asked as they turned a corner, "Will this be our way to St.
Sylvester's?"

"Yes. I suppose Bertie will make his debut next Sunday? I must come
and hear him."

"Of course you must," said Lisle. "Where do you generally go?"

"Well, for a walk generally. Sometimes it ends in some outlying
church, sometimes not."

"Oh, but it's your duty to attend your parish church when I play
there. I suppose St. Sylvester's _is_ your parish church?"

"Not a bit of it. St. Andrew's occupies that proud position. I've been
there three times, I think."

"And what sort of a place is that?" said Miss Lisle.

"The dreariest, dustiest, emptiest place imaginable," Percival
answered, turning quickly toward her. "There's an old clergyman,
without a tooth in his head, who mumbles something which the
congregation seem to take for granted is the service. Perhaps he means
it for that: I don't know. He's the curate, I think, come to help the
rector, who is getting just a little past his work. I don't remember
that I ever saw the rector."

"But does any one go?"

"Well, there's the clerk," said Percival thoughtfully; "and there's a
weekly dole of bread left to fourteen poor men and fourteen poor women
of the parish. They must be of good character and above the age of
sixty-five. It is given away after the afternoon service. When I have
been there, there has always been a congregation of thirty, without
reckoning the clergyman." He paused in his walk. "Didn't you want a
grocer, Miss Lisle? I don't do much of my shopping, but I believe this
place is as good as any."

Judith went in, and the two young men waited outside. In something
less than half a minute Lisle showed signs of impatience. He inspected
the grocer's stock of goods through the window, and extended his
examination to a toyshop beyond, where he seemed particularly
interested in a small