, "and perhaps I ought to apologize,
for I saw my name on it and I opened it by mistake. I was expecting some
more copies of my _Modern Dissent_."

"It does not matter. I have no doubt you put it away safely. Where is
it?"

"Having opened it, I glanced at it."

"I am surprised to hear that," said Hester, a pink spot appearing on
each cheek, and her eyes darkening. "When did I give you leave to read
it?"

Mr. Gresley looked dully at his sister, and went on without noticing her
question.

"I glanced at it. I do not see any difference between reading a book in
manuscript or in print. I don't pretend to quibble on a point like that.
After looking at it, I felt that it was desirable I should read the
whole. You may remember, Hester, that I showed you my _Modern Dissent_.
If I did not make restrictions, why should you?"

"The thing is done," said Hester. "I did not wish you to read it, and
you have read it. It can't be helped. We won't speak of it again."

"It is my duty to speak of it."

Hester made an impatient movement.

"But it is not mine to listen," she said. "Besides, I know all you are
going to say--the same as about _The Idyll_, only worse. That it is
coarse and profane and exaggerated, and that I have put in improprieties
in order to make it sell, and that I run down the clergy, and that the
book ought never to be published. Dear James, spare me. You and I shall
never agree on certain subjects. Let us be content to differ."

Mr. Gresley was disconcerted. Your antagonist has no business to
discount all you were going to remark by saying it first.

His color was gradually leaving him. This was worse than an Easter
vestry meeting, and that was saying a good deal.

"I cannot stand by calmly and see you walk over a precipice if I can
forcibly hold you back," he said. "I think, Hester, you forget that it
is my affection for you that makes me try to restrain you. It is for
your own sake that--that--"

"That what?"

"That I cannot allow this book to be published," said Mr. Gresley, in a
low voice. He hardly ever lowered his voice.

There was a moment's pause. Hester felt the situation was serious. How
not to wound him, yet not to yield?

"I am eight-and-twenty," she said. "I am afraid I must follow my own
judgment. You have no responsibility in the matter. If I am blamed," she
smiled proudly--at that instant she knew all that her book was
worth--"the blame will not attach to you. And, after all, Minna a