y all the very religious people I know are solemn and melancholy,
as though they hadn't wits enough to be anything else. They only
understand what is uncomfortable, just as beasts of burden only
understand threats and beatings. I suppose it's a question of culture.
Now I learn more of what _I_ call religion from fields, and trees, and
flowers than from anything else. I don't believe that if the world had
consisted of nothing but cities any real religion would ever have been
evolved at all."

"Crude, my dear Austin, very crude!" remarked St Aubyn, patting his
shoulder as they walked. "There's more in religion than that, a great
deal. Beware of generalising too widely, and don't forget the personal
equation. Now, come and have a look at the orchids. I've got one or
two rather fine ones that you haven't seen."

He led the way towards the orchid-houses. Here they spent a delightful
quarter of an hour, and it was only the thought of his visit to the
Banqueting Hall that reconciled Austin to tearing himself away. St
Aubyn seemed much diverted at his insistence, and asked him whether he
expected to find the figures on the tapestry endowed with life and
disporting themselves about the room for his entertainment.

"I wish they would!" laughed Austin. "What fun it would be. I'm sure
they'd enjoy it too. How old is the tapestry, by the way?"

"It's fifteenth century work, I believe," replied St Aubyn. "Here we
are. It really is very good of its kind, and the colours are
wonderfully preserved."

"It's lovely!" sighed Austin, as he walked slowly up the hall,
feasting his eyes once more on the beautiful fabrics. "What a thing to
live with! Just think of having all these charming people as one's
daily companions. I shouldn't want them to come to life, I like them
just as they are. If they moved or spoke the charm would be broken.
Why don't you spend hours every day in this wonderful place?"

"My dear boy, I haven't such an imagination as you have," answered St
Aubyn, laughing. "But as a mere artist, of course I appreciate them as
much as anyone, just as I appreciate statuary or pictures. And I prize
them for their historical value too."

Austin made no reply. He began to look abstracted, as though listening
to something else. The sun had begun to sink on the other side of the
house, leaving the hall itself in comparative shadow.

"Don't you feel anything?" he said at last, in an undertone.

"Nothing whatever," replied St Aub