own experience of London society. The result
is that I am more and more confirmed in the fears with which I have
already worried you. Two movements are plainly going on in the life of
our day. The decay of religious belief is undermining morality, and the
progress of Radicalism in politics is working to the same end by
overthrowing social distinctions. Evidence stares one in the face from
every column of the papers. Of course you have read more or less about
the recent "scandal"--I mean the _most_ recent.--It isn't the kind of
thing one cares to discuss, but we can't help knowing about it, and
does it not strongly support what I say? Here is materialism sinking
into brutal immorality, and high social rank degrading itself by
intimacy with the corrupt vulgar. There are newspapers that make
political capital out of these "revelations".

I have read some of them, and they make me so _fiercely_ aristocratic
that I find it hard to care anything at all even for the humanitarian
efforts of people I respect. You will tell me, I know, that this is
quite the wrong way of looking at it. But the evils are so monstrous
that it is hard to fix one's mind on the good that may long hence
result from them.

'I cling to the essential (that is the _spiritual_) truths of
Christianity as the only absolute good left in our time. I would say
that I care nothing for forms, but some form there must be, else one's
faith evaporates. It has become very easy for me to understand how men
and women who know the world refuse to believe any longer in a
directing Providence. A week ago I again met Miss Moxey at the
Walworths', and talked with her more freely than before. This
conversation showed me that I have become much more tolerant towards
individuals. But though this or that person may be supported by moral
sense alone, the world cannot dispense with religion. If it tries
to--and it _will_--there are dreadful times before us.

'I wish I were a man! I would do something, however ineffectual. I
would stand on the side of those who are fighting against mob-rule and
mob-morals. How would you like to see Exeter Cathedral converted into a
"coffee music-hall"? And that will come.'

Reading this, Sylvia had the sense of listening to an echo. Some of the
phrases recalled to her quite a different voice from Sidwell's. She
smiled and mused.

On the morning appointed for her journey to Exeter Sidwell rose early,
and in unusually good spirits. Mrs. Warrico