joyment of his
sinecure. He had never married. And as justification for his
self-imposed celibacy he pompously quoted Kant: "I am a bachelor, and
I could not cease to be a bachelor without a disturbance that would be
intolerable to me." Yet he was not a misogynist. He simply shirked
responsibility and ease-threatening risk.

"You see," he remarked, explaining himself later to Carmen, "I'm a
pseudo-litterateur--I conduct a 'Who's It?' for the quidnunces of this
blase old burg. And I really meet a need by furnishing an easy method
of suicide, for my little vanity sheet is a sort of social mirror,
that all who look therein may die of laughter. By the way, I had to
run those base squibs about you; but, by George! I'm going to make a
retraction in next Saturday's issue. I'll put a crimp in friend Ames
that'll make him squeal. I'll say he has ten wives, and eight of 'em
Zulus, at that!"

"Don't, please!" laughed Carmen. "We have enough to meet, without
going out of our way to stir up more. Let it all work out now, as it
will, in the right way."

"In the right way, eh? Is that part of your doctrine? Say, don't you
think that in formulating a new religion you're carrying coals to
Newcastle? Seems to me we've got enough now, if we'd practice 'em."

"My religion, Mr. Haynerd, is only the practice of the teachings of a
Nazarene Jew, named Jesus," she replied gently.

"Well, my religion is Socialism, I guess," he said lightly.

"So's mine," she quickly returned. "I'm a thorough Socialist. So we
meet on common ground, don't we?" She held out her hand, and he took
it, a puzzled expression coming into his face.

"Well," he said, glancing about, "we'll have to dispute that later. I
see Father Waite is about to open this little religious seminar. But
we'll get back to the discussion of myself," he added, his eyes
twinkling. "For, like Thoreau, I prefer to discuss that subject,
because there's no other about which I know so much."

"Nor so little," she added, laughing and squeezing his hand as she
turned from him.

The little coterie took their places around the dining room table,
which was well strewn with books of reference and writing materials.
Father Waite rapped gently for order. A deep, reverent silence fell
upon the group. They had begun their search for God.

"Friends," began Father Waite slowly, "we are inaugurating to-night a
mission of the most profound significance. No question so vitally
touches the human race