d of the
nonsense-rhymes that people call hymns? Shakspere and Milton; Shelley
I would not debar; Wordsworth's sonnets. But the scheme will require a
great deal of thought."

"A great deal; that is why I leave it in your hands. You are a thinking
man--you are not afraid of tradition."

"Tradition--tradition! the ruts made in the road by the vehicles that
have passed over it in years gone by!"

"The road to the Church is sadly in need of macadamizing, Mr.
Holland--or, better still, asphalting. Make a bicycle road of it, and
you are all right. Now, come with me to my club and have lunch. We'll
talk no more just now about this matter."

They went out together.

CHAPTER XXX.

THERE IS NO ONE I LIKE BETTER THAN PHYLLIS.

Phyllis Ayrton had spent a considerable time pondering over that problem
of how best to save a man and a woman from destruction--social, perhaps;
eternal, for certain. She felt that it had been laid upon her to save
them both, and she remembered the case of one Jonah, a prophet, who, in
endeavoring to escape from the disagreeable duty with which he had been
intrusted, had had an experience that was practically unique, even among
prophets. She would not try to evade her responsibility in this matter.

A few days after Herbert Courtland had witnessed by the side of Ella
the representation of "Carmen," he had met Phyllis at an At Home. He
had seen her in the distance through a vista of crowded rooms, and had
crushed his way to her side. He could scarcely fail to see the little
light that came to her face as she put out her hand to him, nor could
her companion of the moment--he was one of the coming men in science,
consequently like most coming men, he had been forced into a prominent
place in the drawing room--fail to perceive that his farewell moment
with that pretty Miss Ayrton had come. She practically turned her back
upon him when Herbert Courtland came up.

For some moments they chatted together, and then it occurred to him
that she might like some iced coffee. His surmise proved correct, and
as there was at that moment a stream of people endeavoring to avoid the
entertainment of the high-class pianoforte player which was threatened
in a neighboring apartment, Phyllis and her companion had no trouble in
slipping aside from the panic-stricken people into the tea room.

It was a sultry day, and the French windows of the room were open.
It was Phyllis who discovered that there was a narrow ver