s possible, to choose the
devil. He was utterly unable to contemplate the disaster which might
ensue if certain financial ties, which were thicker than cables, were
snapped. But his affection for the devil was not increased by thus being
led into a charge from which he would willingly have drawn back. Asa
Waring might mean nothing to Eldon Parr, but he meant a great deal to
Francis Ferguson, who had by no means forgotten his sensations of
satisfaction when Mrs. Waring had made her first call in Park Street on
Francis Ferguson's wife. He left the room in such a state of
absent-mindedness as actually to pass Mr. Parr in the corridor without
speaking to him.

The case of Wallis Plimpton was even worse. He had married the Gores,
but he had sought to bind himself with hoops of steel to the Warings. He
had always secretly admired that old Roman quality (which the Goodriches
--their connections--shared) of holding fast to their course unmindful
and rather scornful of influence which swayed their neighbours. The clan
was sufficient unto itself, satisfied with a moderate prosperity and a
continually increasing number of descendants. The name was unstained.
Such are the strange incongruities in the hearts of men, that few
realized the extent to which Wallis Plimpton had partaken of the general
hero-worship of Phil Goodrich. He had assiduously cultivated his regard,
at times discreetly boasted of it, and yet had never been sure of it.
And now fate, in the form of his master, Eldon Parr had ironically
compelled him at one stroke to undo the work of years. As soon as the
meeting broke up, he crossed the room.

"I can't tell you how much I regret this, Phil," he said. "Charlotte has
very strong convictions, you know, and so have I. You can understand, I
am sure, how certain articles of belief might be necessary to one person,
and not to another."

"Yes," said Phil, "I can understand. We needn't mention the articles,
Wallis." And he turned his back.

He never knew the pain he inflicted. Wallis Plimpton looked at the
rector, who stood talking to Mr. Waring, and for the first time in his
life recoiled from an overture.

Something in the faces of both men warned him away.

Even Everett Constable, as they went home in the cars together, was brief
with him, and passed no comments when Mr. Plimpton recovered sufficiently
to elaborate on the justification of their act, and upon the
extraordinary stand taken by Phil Goodrich and Mr. Wa