member Tim who must have been still unborn when I left home to join
the Army.

"Tim has the brains of our family," said Gorman. "His mother was a very
clever woman."

I never heard Gorman say anything worse than that about his step-mother,
and yet she certainly treated him very badly.

"You're all clever," I said. "Your father drove mine out of the country
and deprived him of his property. It took ability to do that. You are a
Member of Parliament and a brilliant journalist Timothy--I hardly like
to speak of him as Tim--owns a splendid circus."

"He doesn't own it," said Gorman.

"Well, runs it," I said. "I expect it takes more brains to run a circus
than to own one."

"He doesn't exactly run it," said Gorman. "In fact he only takes the
money at the door. But he has brains. That's why I want Ascher to meet
him. I didn't ask Mrs. Ascher," he added thoughtfully, "though she
hinted for an invitation, rather made a set at me, in fact."

"Give her my ticket," I said. "I don't mind a bit. I'll buy another for
myself in a cheap part of the house, and join you at supper afterwards.
You ought not to disappoint Mrs. Ascher."

"I don't want Mrs. Ascher this time. She'd be in the way. She's a
charming woman, of course, though she does bore me a bit about music and
talks of her soul."

"Good Heavens!" I said. "You haven't been discussing religion with her,
surely. I didn't think you'd do a thing like that, Gorman. You oughtn't
to."

"Never mentioned religion to her in my life. Nothing would induce me to.
For one thing I don't believe she has any."

"You're a Roman Catholic yourself, aren't you?"

"Well," said Gorman, "I don't know that I can say that I am exactly; but
I'm not a Protestant or a Jew. But that's nothing to do with it. Mrs.
Ascher doesn't talk about her soul in a religious way. In fact--I don't
know if you'll understand, but what she means by a soul is something
quite different, not the same sort of soul."

I understood perfectly. I have met several women of Mrs. Ascher's kind.
They are rather boastful about their souls and even talk of saving or
losing them. But they do not mean what one of Gorman's priests would
mean, or what my poor father, who was a strongly evangelical Protestant,
meant by the phrases.

"We are not accustomed to souls like hers in Ireland. We only go in for
the commonplace, old-fashioned sort."

Gorman smiled.

"She wouldn't be seen with one of them about her," he said. "They'r