ever heard."

"I don't care, he's ruining himself. The truth about him is sure to come
out, and then he'll be drummed out of the place."

"I suppose Miss Blackstone refused him because she had heard about this
habit of his."

"Oh, it wasn't that only. Miss Blackstone is a very religious young
lady, and, as you know, Leicester is an agnostic. Not only that, but his
views about marriage would not be likely to commend themselves to her.
Fancy Radford Leicester being accepted by a girl like Miss Blackstone!"

They had been speaking in low tones, although they thought the young man
was too much under the influence of whisky to take any notice of them,
even although the sound of their voices could reach him plainly. They
were greatly surprised, therefore, when he to whom they had referred as
Radford Leicester rose from his chair and came close to them. He looked
at them quietly, glancing first at one and then at the other. Each
returned his glance, as if wondering what he would say.

"I was in doubts," he said, "as to whether I was in one of Moody and
Sankey's meetings or whether some strange fate had thrown me into the
midst of a Dorcas society."

"Why, old man?"

"Because at first I heard of some scheme for snatching a brand from the
burning, and afterwards I heard some gossip which was as full of lies as
the gossip of a Dorcas society usually is. When I opened my eyes I was a
bit surprised. I found I was in the smoking-room of my club, where women
are not admitted. Am I mistaken? For the plan for my salvation was
essentially feminine, while the gossip was scarcely up to the level of a
woman's charity meeting."

He drew a chair into the circle and sat down, each man looking rather
uncomfortable as he did so.

"Don't you feel like a word of prayer?" he said mockingly. "I am rather
in the humour for it. What is the process? First conviction, and then
conversion, isn't it?"

There was no thickness in his voice, each word was carefully
articulated. He gave no sign of drinking, if we except the peculiar look
in his eyes.

"Your father is a parson, isn't he, Purvis?" he went on. "He will be
pleased to know that his son is walking in his father's footsteps, while
Sprague's mother is great at women's meetings. Sprague has evidently
inherited his mother's gifts."

Sprague turned towards him angrily.

"Steady, steady, old man," said Leicester, with a mocking smile on his
lips. "You can't deny that you assist your mo