been my observation in nearly every instance," said Miss Dean,
slowly. "I have often said that if I could see a conscientious Christian
I would be willing to give up some of my present theories."

"Do tell us one of your theories," said Mrs. Marvin. "I, too, am very
bitter against hypocrisy in the church. I shall be glad if some one else
feels the same as I do, for my daughter is constantly reproving me for
my distrust and bitterness."

"Well, for one thing," said Miss Dean, "I think religion impracticable.
No person can follow Christ and succeed in any line of business."

"I agree with you," exclaimed Mrs. Marvin, promptly. "The principles of
Christianity oppose success at every turn. To be Christ-like one must
always be poor, always weak and, consequently, always downtrodden."

"Your daughter does not believe that," said Miss Dean, smiling.

Faith was so in earnest when she answered that she stopped on the
sidewalk and faced them.

"Is there any success greater than this," she asked, eagerly, "to earn
those precious words from the lips of our Saviour, 'Well done, thou good
and faithful servant,' and to receive at the end of life that joy
everlasting that is promised to those who follow Him, even though they
bear the cross of worldly failure?"

Miss Dean stared at the young girl in honest admiration. While she
questioned her reasoning, she almost envied her. If a simple faith was
so satisfying it was certainly worth having, but to natures like hers
this simple faith was impossible.

CHAPTER XXIV.

MR. DENTON'S ULTIMATUM.

When Mr. Denton left that scene of sorrow in which Faith Marvin had just
played so sweet a role, he could not possibly have described his
tumultuous feelings. Not a night since that sad death in the cloak-room
had he been able to sleep peacefully, and even by day his thoughts were
sorely disturbed. It was, as his son had said, as though the spirit of
Miss Jennings was haunting him.

He was not a bad-hearted man by any means, but, like hundreds of others,
he thought only of his own interests and those of his wife and son, who
were very dear to him. Out of his own station in life he rarely looked,
and the question of equal rights never presented itself to him
seriously.

Now, however, something had taken possession of him which he could not
understand. He was beginning to meditate upon the rights of others.

As he hurried home after those brief moments at the undertaker's, he
we