and
the unity of Christ and the believer."

Gertrude was yawning behind her hand before the clergyman was half
through his explanation.

"I thank you, Mr Marshall," said Temperance, who had listened
attentively. "Methinks I had some apprehension of the difference in
myself, but I could not have expounded it thus clearly."

"To know it in yourself, my sister, is a far greater thing, and a
better, than being able to expound it.--And how is it with you, Lady
Lettice?"

"Well, Mr Marshall," she said with her soft smile. "At times I think
that a few more pins of the tabernacle are taken down, and then the
passing wind causeth the curtains to shake. But at worst it shall be
only the moving of the pillar of cloud--the `Come up higher' into the
very presence of the King."

"And in the interim `the Lord sitteth between the cherubim, be the
people never so unquiet.' And how is it, dear Sister, with your two
young men?"

Lady Louvaine paused to accept Gertrude's offered hand and bid her
good-night. That young woman did not enjoy Mr Marshall's conversation,
and suddenly discovered that it was time for her return home.

"Hans is all I could desire," said the old lady, returning to the
subject: "he is a dear, good, sober-minded lad as need be. But I will
not disguise from you, Mr Marshall, that I am in some disease of mind
touching Aubrey."

"May I ask wherefore?"

"You may ask, indeed, yet can I scarce tell. That is no wise-sounding
thing to say: yet one may have cause for fear where he hath no evidence
for demonstration."

"He may so, indeed. Then you reckon there is good cause for fear?"

"Mr Marshall, you told us some time back that our neighbour Mr
Rookwood was brother to a Papist. Know you aught of a friend of his,
one Mr Winter, that is in London at times, and hath his lodging in the
Strand?"

"A friend of this Mr Rookwood, your neighbour?"

"I reckon so. At least, a friend of his son."

"Sons do at times make friends apart from their fathers," said Mr
Marshall with a smile. "I cannot say, Lady Lettice, that the name is
quite unknown to me; yet cannot I, like you, lay a finger on any special
thing I may have heard thereabout."

"What were the other names, Edith? I cannot call them to mind."

"Mr Catesby, Mother, and Mr Percy, and Mr Darcy: those, I think, were
what Aubrey told us."

"Mr Percy!--what Percy is he?"

"I know not: some kin to my Lord Northumberland."

"Where dwells he?"

"