imself,
appeared of paramount importance. He listened to denunciations of
Protestants until he felt, as he told the faithful Barty, that "for
tuppence" he would change over himself; just as in some sections of
the rival camp, he would have heard to weariness of the bigotry and
errors of Romanism. He was brought, as many people more God-fearing
than he have been brought, to debate the question as to whether a
common atheism were not the only panacea for the mutual hatreds that,
as appeared to him from his present point of view, ruled the Island of
Saints. He and Barty would sit up over the dying embers of the
dining-room fire of No. 6, The Mall, talking; wrangling, in a sort of
country-dance of argument, in which they advanced and retired, and
joined hands, and flung away from each other again; ending, generally,
in such agreement as might be found in a common determination to lay
all the blame for all the malice and uncharitableness at the door of
the clergy of the two creeds; a comprehensive decision, and a
consoling one, from the point of view of two laymen.

Larry, in his loneliness, had fallen into the habit of frequenting No.
6; of "taking pot-luck," of "dropping in," or of "turning in," all of
which courses had been urged upon him by his captor, Dr. Mangan. Those
great and special gifts of the Mangan family, the love of music, and
the habit of it (which are not always allied) bestowed upon the
household a charm that was almost more potent for Larry than any other
could have been. At the end of a long day of canvassing, spent with
companions who, he felt, only half trusted him, and were incapable of
being amused by the things that amused him (a factor in friendship
that cannot be valued too highly) it was comforting to "drop in" to
the hospitable, untidy house, where, thanks to Mrs. Mangan's early
experiences, there was always good luck in the pot, and to spend a
peaceful evening over the fire, smoking, and listening to the famous
Mangan Quartet. Music was the initial point of contact between Larry
and these people among whom he had once more been cast, and the Big
Doctor was not unaware of the fact. Singly, or united, the Mangan
voices, mellow, tuneful, singing songs of Ireland with artless grace
and charm, wrought more in Larry's soul than he was aware of. Not only
to his ears, but to his eyes also, the Mangan Quartet brought artistic
satisfaction. The Big Doctor, with his sombre face and overhanging
brow, looki