nsense, that's all I have to say;
and I'm glad for my part I've somethin' better to do."

"Do you say he's comin' again?" inquired Mrs. Armadale.

"He says so, mother."

"What for?"

"Why, to visit his friend Mrs. Barclay, of course."

"She is our friend," said the old lady; "and her friends must be
entertained; but he is not _our_ friend, children. We ain't of his
kind, and he ain't of our'n."

"What's the matter? Ain't he good?" asked Mrs. Marx.

"He's _very_ good!" said Madge.

"Not in grandmother's way," said Lois softly.

"Mother," said Mrs. Marx, "you can't have everybody cut out on your
pattern."

Mrs. Armadale made no answer.

"And there ain't enough o' your pattern to keep one from bein'
lonesome, if we're to have nothin' to do with the rest."

"Better so," said the old lady. "I don't want no company for my chil'en
that won't help 'em on the road to heaven. They'll have company enough
when they get there."

"And how are you goin' to be the salt o' the earth, then, if you won't
touch nothin'?"

"How, if the salt loses its saltness, daughter?"

"Well, mother, it always puzzles me, that there's so much to be said on
both sides of things! I'll go home and think about it. Then he ain't
one o' your Appledore friends, Lois?"

"Not one of my friends at all, aunt Anne."

So the talk ended. There was a little private extension of it that
evening, when Lois and Madge went up to bed.

"It's a pity grandma is so sharp about things," the latter remarked to
her sister.

"Things?" said Lois. "What things?"

"Well--people. Don't you like that Mr. Dillwyn?"

"Yes."

"So do I. And she don't want us to have anything to do with him."

"But she is right," said Lois. "He is not a Christian."

"But one can't live only with Christians in this world. And, Lois, I'll
tell you what I think; he is a great deal pleasanter than a good many
Christians I know."

"He is good company," said Lois. "He has seen a great deal and read a
great deal, and he knows how to talk. That makes him pleasant."

"Well, he's a great deal more improving to be with than anybody I know
in Shampuashuh."

"In one way."

"Why shouldn't one have the pleasure, then, and the good, if he isn't a
Christian?"

"The pleasanter he is, I suppose the more danger, grandmother would
think."

"Danger of what?"

"You know, Madge, it is not my say-so, nor even grandmother's. You
know, Christians are not of the world."

"But they must _se