hostess, now Serena. The burden of
conversation fell upon Mr. Vialls, who was quite equal to its support;
he spoke of the evil tendencies of the time as exhibited in a shameful
attempt to establish Sunday evening concerts at a club of Polterham
workmen. His discourse on this subject, systematically developed,
lasted until the ladies withdrew. It allowed him scarcely any attention
to his plate, but Mr. Vialls had the repute of an ascetic. In his
buttonhole was a piece of blue ribbon, symbol of a ferocious
total-abstinence; his face would have afforded sufficient proof that
among the reverend man's failings were few distinctly of the flesh.

The Mayor did not pretend to asceticism. He ate largely and without
much discrimination. His variously shaped and coloured glasses were not
merely for display. When the door had closed behind the Mayoress and
her two companions, he settled himself with an audible sigh, and for a
few moments wore a look of meditation; then, leaning towards Glazzard,
he inquired gravely:

"What is your opinion of the works of Bawlzac?"

The guest was at a loss for an instant, but he quickly recovered
himself.

"Ah, the French novelist? A man of great power, but--hardly according
to English tastes."

"Should you consider him suitable reading for young ladies?"

"Well, hardly. Some of his books are unobjectionable."

Mr. Vialls shot a fierce glance at him.

"In my opinion, his very name is pollution! I would not permit a page
of his writing, or of that of any French novelist, to enter my house.
One and all are drenched with impurity!"

"Certainly many of them are," conceded Glazzard.

"Lamentable," sighed the Mayor, raising his glass, "to think that quite
a large number of his books have been put into the Institute library!
We must use our influence on all hands, Mr. Vialls. We live in sad
times. Even the theatre--I am told that some of the plays produced in
London are disgraceful, simply disgraceful!"

The theatre was discussed, Mr. Vialls assailing it as a mere agent of
popular corruption. On the mention of the name of Shakespeare, Mr.
Mumbray exclaimed:

"Shakespeare needs a great deal of expurgating. But some of his plays
teach a good lesson, I think. There is 'I read Romeo and Juliet,' for
instance." Glazzard looked up in surprise. "I read 'Romeo and Juliet'
not long ago, and it struck me that its intention was decidedly moral.
It points a lesson to disobedient young people. If Juliet