or thinking. Naturally, the thinking
came afterwards.

He and Mrs. Barclay sat by her fire, resting, after coming home from
the church. Dillwyn was very silent and meditative.

"You must be glad it is done, Philip," said his friend, watching him,
and wishing to get at his thoughts.

"I have no particular reason to be glad."

"You have done a good thing."

"I am not sure if it is a good thing. Mrs. Armadale does not think so."

"Mrs. Armadale has rather narrow notions."

"I don't know. I should be glad to be sure she is not right. It's
discouraging," he added, with half a smile;--"for the first time in my
life I set myself to work; and now am not at all certain that I might
not just as well have been idle."

"Work is a good thing in itself," said Mrs. Barclay, smiling.

"Pardon me!--work for an end. Work without an end--or with the end not
attained--it is no better than a squirrel in a wheel."

"You have given a great deal of pleasure."

"To the children! For ought I know, they might have been just as well
without it. There will be a reaction to-morrow, very likely; and then
they will wish they had gone to see the Christmas tree at the other
church."

"But they were kept at their own church."

"How do I know that is any good? Perhaps the teaching at the other
school is the best."

"You are tired," said Mrs. Barclay sympathizingly.

"Not that. I have done nothing to tire me; but it strikes me it is very
difficult to see one's ends in doing good; much more difficult than to
see the way to the ends."

"You have partly missed your end, haven't you?" said Mrs. Barclay
softly.

He moved a little restlessly in his chair; then got up and began to
walk about the room; then came and sat down again.

"What are you going to do next?" she asked in the same way.

"Suppose you invite them--the two girls--or her alone--to make you a
visit in New York?"

"Where?"

"At any hotel you prefer; say, the Windsor."

"O Philip, Philip!"--

"What?--You could have pleasant rooms, and be quite private and
comfortable; as much as if you were in your own house."

"And what should we cost you?"

"You are not thinking of _that?_" said he. "I will get you a house, if
you like it better; but then you would have the trouble of a staff of
servants. I think the Windsor would be much the easiest plan."

"You _are_ in earnest!"

"In earnest!" he repeated in surprise. "Have you ever questioned it?
You judge because you neve