d long ago."

"He is a wicked man!" Lois cried inconsequently.

But Gifford shook his head. "No, he is not. And more than that, Lois, you
ought to consider that this belief of Ward's, if it is crude, is the husk
which has kept safe the germ of truth,--the consequences of sin are
eternal. There is no escape from character."

"Oh, yes," she answered, "but that is not theology, you know: we don't
put God into that."

"Heaven help us if we do not!" the young man said reverently. "It is
all God, Lois; perhaps not God as John Ward thinks of Him, a sort of
magnified man, for whom he has to arrange a scheme of salvation, a kind
of an apology for the Deity, but the power and the desire for good in
ourselves. That seems to me to be God. Sometimes I feel as though all
our lives were a thought of the Eternal, which would have as clear an
expression as we would let it."

Lois had not followed his words, and said impatiently as he finished,
"Well, anyhow, he is cruel, and Helen should not have felt as she did
when I said so."

Gifford hesitated. "She could not help it. How could she let you say it?"

"What!" cried Lois, "you think he's not cruel?"

"His will is not cruel," Gifford answered, "but I meant--I meant--she
couldn't let you speak as you did of John Ward, to his wife."

Lois flung her head back. "You think I said too much?" she asked. "You
don't half sympathize with her, Gifford. I didn't think you could be so
hard."

"I mean it was not quite kind in you," he said slowly.

"I suppose you think it wasn't right?"

"No, Lois, it was not right," he answered, with a troubled face.

"Well, Gifford," she said, her voice trembling a little, "I'm sorry. But
it seems I never do do anything right. You--you see nothing but faults.
Oh, they're there!" she cried desperately. "Nobody knows that better than
I do; but I never thought any one would say that I did not love Helen"--

"I didn't say so, Lois," the young man interrupted eagerly; "only I felt
as though it wasn't fair for me to think you did not do just right, and
not tell you so."

"Oh, of course," Lois said lightly, "but I don't think we are so very
friendly that I can claim such consideration. You are always finding
fault--and--and about Helen you misunderstand; we can say anything to
each other. I am afraid I exaggerated her annoyance. She knew what I
meant,--she said she did; she--she agreed with me, I've not a doubt!"

"I always seem to blunder," Gifford sai