use talking to me about his goodness," she said; "nobody is
good who isn't a Christian."

"But he is good," persisted Elisabeth--"most tremendously good. The poor
people simply adore him, he does such a lot for them; and he couldn't
have lovelier thoughts and higher ideals if he were a girl instead of a
man. There must be different ways of goodness, Felicia."

"There are not different ways of goodness; mamma says there are not, and
it is very wicked to believe that there are. I am afraid you are not
half as religious as you were at Fox How."

"Yes, I am; but I have learned that true religion is a state of mind
rather than a code of dogmas."

Felicia looked uncomfortable. "I wish you wouldn't talk like that; I am
sure mamma wouldn't like it--she can not bear anything that borders on
the profane."

"I am not bordering on the profane; I am only saying what I uphold is
true. I can not take things for granted as you do; I have to think them
out for myself; and I have come to the conclusion that what a man is is
of far more importance than what a man believes."

"But you ought not to think things like that, Elisabeth; it isn't right
to do so."

"I can't help thinking it. I am an independent being with a mind of my
own, and I must make up that mind according to what I see going on
around me. What on earth is the good of having an intellect, if you
submit that intellect to the will of another? I wonder how you can take
your ideas all ready-made from your mother," exclaimed Elisabeth, who
just then was taking all hers ready-made from Alan Tremaine.

"Well, I can not argue. I am not clever enough; and, besides, mamma
doesn't like us to argue upon religious subjects--she says it is
unsettling; so I will only say that I know you are wrong, and then we
will let the matter drop and talk about Christopher. How is he?"

"Oh, he is all right, only very horrid. To tell you the truth, I am
getting to dislike Christopher."

"Elisabeth!" Felicia's Madonna-like face became quite sorrowful.

"Well, I am; and so would you, if he was as stand-off to you as he is to
me. I can't think what is wrong with him; but whatever I do, and however
nice I try to be to him, the North Pole is warm and neighbourly compared
with him. I'm sick of him and his unsociable ways!"

"But you and he used to be such friends."

"I know that; and I would be friends now if he would let me. But how can
you be friends with a man who is as reserved as the Grea