gh plumes across Mrs. Fetherel's face.

The first speaker's words had carried beyond her companion's ear, and a
lemon-colored woman in spectacles, who clutched a copy of the "Journal
of Psychology" on one drab-cotton-gloved hand, stretched her disengaged
hand across the intervening barrier of humanity.

"Have I the privilege of addressing the distinguished author of 'Fast
and Loose'? If so, let me thank you in the name of the Woman's
Psychological League of Peoria for your magnificent courage in raising
the standard of revolt against--"

"You can tell us the rest in the car," said a fat man, pressing his
good-humored bulk against the speaker's arm.

Mrs. Fetherel, blushing, embarrassed and happy, slipped into the space
produced by this displacement, and a few moments later had taken her
seat in the train.

She was a little late, and the other chairs were already filled by a
company of elderly ladies and clergymen who seemed to belong to the
same party, and were still busy exchanging greetings and settling
themselves in their places.

One of the ladies, at Mrs. Fetherel's approach, uttered an exclamation
of pleasure and advanced with outstretched hand. "My dear Mrs.
Fetherel! I am so delighted to see you here. May I hope you are going
to the unveiling of the chantry window? The dear Bishop so hoped that
you would do so! But perhaps I ought to introduce myself. I am Mrs.
Gollinger"--she lowered her voice expressively--"one of your uncle's
oldest friends, one who has stood close to him through all this sad
business, and who knows what he suffered when he felt obliged to
sacrifice family affection to the call of duty."

Mrs. Fetherel, who had smiled and colored slightly at the beginning of
this speech, received its close with a deprecating gesture.

"Oh, pray don't mention it," she murmured. "I quite understood how my
uncle was placed--I bore him no ill will for feeling obliged to preach
against my book."

"He understood that, and was so touched by it! He has often told me
that it was the hardest task he was ever called upon to perform--and,
do you know, he quite feels that this unexpected gift of the chantry
window is in some way a return for his courage in preaching that
sermon."

Mrs. Fetherel smiled faintly. "Does he feel that?"

"Yes; he really does. When the funds for the window were so
mysteriously placed at his disposal, just as he had begun to despair of
raising them, he assured me that he could not h