ith the
work of the Lord, especially," he added, with a polite smile, "when
that work happens to be--the Lord Gale's son." Accordingly, the next
Sunday, John Gale occupied the pulpit of St. Swithin. But an
unexpected event happened. His pent-up eagerness to denounce the
present methods of Christianity, his fullness of utterance, defeated
his purpose. He was overcome with a kind of pulpit fright. His ideas
of time and place fled him. After beginning, "Mr. Chairman, in rising
to propose the toast of our worthy Archdeacon--Fellow Manxmen--the
present moment--er--er--the proudest in my--er--life--Dearly beloved
Golly--unaccustomed as I am to public speaking," he abruptly delivered
the benediction and sat down. The incident, however, provoked little
attention. The congregation, accustomed to sleep through the sermon,
awoke at the usual time and went home. Only a single Scotchwoman said
to him in passing: "Verra weel for a beginning, laddie. But give it
hotter to 'em next time." Discomfited and bewildered, he communed with
himself gloomily. "I can't marry Golly. I can't talk. I hate
society. What's to be done? I have it! I'll go into a monastery."

He went into a monastery in Bishopsgate Street, reached by a threepenny
'bus. He gave out vaguely that he had got into "Something Good, in the
City." Society was satisfied. Only Golly suspected the truth. She
wrote to her grandfather:--

"I saw John Gale the other day with a crowd following him in the
Strand. He had on only a kind of brown serge dressing-gown, tied
around his waist by a rope, and a hood on his head. I think his poor
'toe-toes' were in sandals, and I dare say his legs were cold, poor
dear. However, if he calls THAT protection of Golly--I don't! I might
be run off at any moment--for all he'd help. No matter! If this Court
understands herself, and she thinks she do, Golly can take care of
herself--you bet."

Nevertheless, Golly lost her place at the hospital through her heroic
defense of her friend Jinny Jones, who had been deceived by Lord
Brownstone Ewer. "You would drive that poor girl into the street," she
said furiously to the Chairman of the Board, throwing her cap and apron
in their faces. "You're a lot of rotten old hypocrites, and I'm glad
to get shut of you." Not content with that, she went to Drake and
demanded that he should make his friend Lord Brownstone marry Jinny.

"Sorry--awfully sorry--my dear Golly, but he's engag