ct opposition to that expressed by Dr.
Maxwell Wyndham. I know my own child,--her faults and her tendencies. She
has been allowed to become extremely lax with regard to her daily duties,
and this laxness is in my opinion the root of the evil. I shall therefore
take my own measures to correct it, and if they are in any way resisted
or neglected I shall at once remove the child from your care. I trust I
have made myself quite explicit."

He had. But Avery's indignation could not be contained.

"You will kill her if you persist!" she said. "Even as it is--even as it
is--her days are numbered."

"The days of all of us are numbered," said the Reverend Stephen. "And it
behoves us to make the very utmost of each one of them. I cannot allow
my child's character to be ruined on account of a physical weakness
which a little judicious discipline will speedily overcome. The spirit
must triumph over the flesh, Lady Evesham. A hard rule for worldlings, I
grant you, but one which must be observed by all who would enter the
Kingdom of Heaven."

Argument was futile. Avery realized it at the outset. He would have his
way, whatever the cost, and no warning or entreaty would move him. For
the rest of that day she had to stand by in impotent anguish, and watch
Jeanie's martyrdom. During the afternoon he sat alone with her,
conducting the intellectual examination which Jeanie had so dreaded,
reprimanding, criticizing, scoffing at her ignorance. In the evening he
took her for what he called a stroll upon which Avery was not allowed to
accompany them. Mr. Lorimer playfully remarking that he wished to give
his young daughter the benefit of his individual attention during the
period of his brief sojourn with them.

They returned from their expedition at eight. Avery was walking to and
fro by the gate in a ferment of anxiety. They came by the cliff-road,
and she went eagerly to meet them.

Jeanie was hanging on her father's arm with a face of deathly whiteness,
and looked on the verge of collapse.

The Reverend Stephen was serenely satisfied with himself, laughed gently
at his child's dragging progress, and assured Avery that a little
wholesome fatigue was a good thing at the end of the day.

Jeanie said nothing. She seemed to be speechless with exhaustion, almost
incapable of standing alone.

Mr. Lorimer recommended a cold bath, a brisk rub-down, and supper.

"After which," he said impressively, "I shall hope to conduct a few
prayers