nd literature, occasionally
skirting very close upon those questions which both feared to discuss
plainly--for a twofold reason. Sidwell read much more than had been her
wont, and her choice of authors would alone have indicated a change in
her ways of thinking, even if she had not allowed it to appear in the
tenor of her talk. The questions she put with reference to Martin's
favourite studies were sometimes embarrassing.

One day they happened to meet Mr. Chilvers, who was driving with his
eldest child, a boy of four. The narrowness of the road made it
impossible--as Martin would have wished--to greet and pass on. Chilvers
stopped the carriage and jumped out. Sidwell could not but pay some
attention to the youthful Chilvers.

'Till he is ten years old,' cried Bruno, 'I shall think much more of
his body than of his mind. In fact, at this age the body _is_ the mind.
Books, books--oh, we attach far too much importance to them. Over-study
is one of the morbific tendencies of our time. Some one or other has
been trying to frown down what he calls the excessive athleticism of
our public schools. No, no! Let us rejoice that our lads have such an
opportunity of vigorous physical development. The culture of the body
is a great part of religion.' He always uttered remarks of this kind as
if suggesting that his hearers should note them in a collection of
aphorisms. 'If to labour is to pray, so also is the practice of
open-air recreation.

When they had succeeded in getting away, father and daughter walked for
some minutes without speaking. At length Sidwell asked, with a smile:

'How does this form of Christianity strike you?'

'Why, very much like a box on the ear with a perfumed glove,' replied
Martin.

'That describes it very well.'

They walked a little further, and Sidwell spoke in a more serious tone.

'If Mr. Chilvers were brought before the ecclesiastical authorities and
compelled to make a clear statement of his faith, what sect, in all the
history of heresies, would he really seem to belong to?'

'I know too little of him, and too little of heresies.'

'Do you suppose for a moment that he sincerely believes the dogmas of
his Church?'

Martin bit his lip and looked uneasy.

'We can't judge him, Sidwell.'

'I don't know,' she persisted. 'It seems to me that he does his best to
give us the means of judging him. I half believe that he often laughs
in himself at the success of his audacity.'

'No, no. I thi