se to house. The Vicar and Dr. Roughsedge had been till
now mainly responsible for these lists--so far, at least, as "serious
books" were concerned, the ladies being allowed the chief voice in
the novels.

Mrs. Roughsedge, a little fluttered, asked for information.

"Miss Mallory has recommended two books which, in my opinion, should not
be circulated among us," said the Vicar. "I have protested--in vain.
Miss Mallory maintains her recommendation. I propose, therefore, to
withdraw from the Club."

"Are they improper?" cried Mrs. Roughsedge, much distressed. Captain
Roughsedge threw an angry look first at his mother and then at
the Vicar.

"Not in the usual sense," said the Vicar, stiffly--"but highly improper
for the reading of Christian people. One is by a Unitarian, and the
other reproduces some of the worst speculations of an infidel German
theology. I pointed out the nature of the books to Miss Mallory. She
replied that they were both by authors whom her father liked. I
regretted it. Then she fired up, refused to withdraw the names, and
offered to resign. Miss Mallory's subscription to the Club is, however,
much larger than mine. _I_ shall therefore resign--protesting, of
course, against the reason which induces me to take this course."

"What's wrong with the books?" asked Hugh Roughsedge.

The Vicar drew himself up.

"I have given my reasons."

"Why, you see that kind of thing in every newspaper," said Roughsedge,
bluntly.

"All the more reason why I should endeavor to keep my parish free from
it," was the Vicar's resolute reply. "However, there is no more to be
said. I wished Mrs. Roughsedge to understand what had happened--that
is all."

He paused, and offered a limp hand in good-bye.

"Let me speak to Miss Mallory," said Mrs. Roughsedge, soothingly.

The Vicar shook his head.

"She is a young lady of strong will." And with a hasty nod of farewell
to the Captain, whose hostility he divined, he walked away.

"And what about obstinate and pig-headed parsons!" said Roughsedge,
hotly, addressing his remark, however, safely to the Vicar's back, and
to his mother. "Who makes him a judge of what we shall read! I shall
make a point of asking for both the books!"

"Oh, my dear Hugh!" cried his mother, in rather troubled protest. Then
she happily reflected that if he asked for them, he was not in the least
likely to read them. "I hope Miss Mallory is not really an unbeliever."

"Mother! Of course, wha