postle like a brick through a skylight.

"The need of the present age is the realization of our brotherhood with
sin and suffering and poverty. West London in satin and diamonds does
not hear her sister East London in rags calling to her to deliver her.
The voice of East London has been drowned in the dance-music of the West
End."

Sybell gazed with awed admiration at the apostle.

"What a beautiful thought," she said.

"Miss Gresley's _Idyll of East London_," said Hugh, "is a voice which,
at any rate, has been fully heard."

The apostle put up a _pince-nez_ on a bone leg and looked at Hugh.

"I entirely disapprove of that little book," she said. "It is misleading
and wilfully one-sided."

"Hester Gresley is a dear friend of mine," said Sybell, "and I must
stand up for her. She is the sister of our clergyman, who is a very
clever man. In fact, I am not sure he isn't the cleverest of the two.
She and I have great talks. We have so much in common. How strange it
seems that she who lives in the depths of the country should have
written a story of the East End!"

"That is always so," said the author of _Unashamed_, in a sonorous
voice. "The novel has of late been dwarfed to the scope of the young
English girl"--he pronounced it gurl--"who writes from her imagination
and not from her experience. What true art requires of us is a faithful
rendering of a great experience."

He looked round, as if challenging the world to say that _Unashamed_ was
not a lurid personal reminiscence.

Sybell was charmed. She felt that none of her previous dinner-parties
had reached such a high level as this one.

"A faithful rendering of a great experience," she repeated. "How I wish
Hester were here to hear that. I often tell her she ought to see life,
and cultivated society would do so much for her. I found her out a year
ago, and I'm always begging people to read her book, and I simply long
to introduce her to clever people and oblige the world to recognize her
talent."

"I agree with you, it is not yet fully recognized," said Hugh, in a
level voice; "but if _The Idyll_ received only partial recognition, it
was, at any rate, enthusiastic. And it is not forgotten."

Sybell felt vaguely uncomfortable, and conceived a faint dislike of Hugh
as an uncongenial person.

The apostle and the poet began to speak simultaneously, but the female
key was the highest, and prevailed.

"We all agree in admiring Miss Gresley's delicate piece o