most scandalous thing!" he said.
"We had them here once, years ago, and the harm they did no one would
believe. I've been to Tamar about it; he can do nothing, unless they
disturb the public peace, of course. He had the impertinence to tell me
that they behaved very well last time they were here!"

"I don't like that man," said Grace. "I don't believe he makes his
money properly. Look at the clothes Mrs. Tamar wears! What I mean is, I
don't like his wife at all."

"It's very hard," said Paul, his voice trembling with indignation,
"that when men and women have been working for years to bring Christ
into the hearts of mankind that mountebanks and hypocrites should be
allowed to undo the work in the space of a night. I know this man
Thurston. They've had letters in the Church Times about him." "Fancy!"
said Grace, "and still he dares show his face."

"But do they really do so much harm?" asked Maggie. "I should have
thought if they only came once for a week in ten years they couldn't
make any real effect on anybody--"

"Maggie, dear," said Paul gently, "you don't understand."

As the day of the Revival approached, Maggie knew that she would go to
one of the services. She was now in a strange state of excitement. The
shock of her uncle's death had undoubtedly shaken her whole balance,
moral, physical, and mental. The fortnight that had followed it, when
she had clung like a man falling from a height and held by a rocky
ledge to the one determination not to look either behind or in front of
her, had been a strain beyond her strength.

She did not know; she did not feel any weakness; she felt rather a
curious atmosphere of light and expectation as though that cry to
Martin in her bedroom had truly been answered. And she felt more than
this. Old Magnus had once said to her: "I don't know what religion is
except that it is a fight--and some people join in because they want
to, some are forced to join in whether they want to or no, some just
leave it alone, and some (most) don't know there's one going on at all.
But if you don't join in you seem to me to have wasted your time."

She had not understood in the least what he meant; she did not
understand now; but, thinking of his words, it did seem to her that she
was sharing in some conflict. The vast armies hidden from her by mist,
the contested ground also hidden, but the clash of arms clearly to be
heard. Her own part of a struggle seemed to be round her love for
Martin