Rowland was grave in a moment.
'I should wish to labour wherever there is the largest field to work in, Miss Nugent, whether in the city or St James's.'
'Yeth, to be sure, I believe there are loths of poor people in Tht Jameth'th. I onthe went by chance into thuch a nathty alley clothe by Tht Jameth'th Threet. Thuch dirty children!'
'Alas,' said Miss Hall, coming to the rescue of Rowland, who was looking quite distressed, 'we cannot go many steps in the London parishes, be they fashionable or unfashionable, without entering a "vineyard" amply wide enough for any one who wishes to work in it, whether priest or layman.'
Rowland looked round brightly and pleasantly at Miss Hall. Freda could not help noticing the sudden animation in a face that she had considered a minute ago almost heavy.
'When are we to have our game at chess?' interrupted Mr Gwynne. 'The poor of London is a subject I quite dread to hear discussed, it is so hopeless. One can do no good, and what is the use of tormenting oneself about it here in Wales.'
'Oh, papa! they want very decided measures; plenty of police, active magistrates, and I don't know what besides,' said Freda.
'Would you allow me to supply what you have omitted?' asked Rowland; 'they want Christian sympathy, Christian teaching, brotherly kindness, and the aid of the rich and powerful.'
Freda considered Rowland's finale to her sentence impertinent and was about to take up the defence of her magisterial system very warmly, when she met a glance so earnest and appealing, and withal so beautiful in its earnestness, that she could not find in her heart to answer it by a hard look or word; so, for want of better reply, she went to prepare the chess-table.
'I wish you joy of that Saracenic game,' she said ironically, as her father and Rowland sat down to chess, not perhaps quite by the wish of one of the pair.