"My dear Betty! I say—was there so great a difference between that sermon and others I have preached?"
"Why, Archie, how modest you are! Don't you know that you climbed to the heights that Whit-Sunday? Before, you seemed to be rambling about on the comfortable plains. Oh, I know we can't scale mountains every day. Lord Randolph said as much——" She paused.
"What did Lord Randolph say?"
"He did not intend that it should reach your ears."
"Betty—you will do me a favour by repeating what he said as he said it. I am not thin-skinned."
"Well, he said that beer was good liquor, and that spirits should be used sparingly. You couldn't preach such a sermon as that every Sunday."
"Not I," said Archie.
"The great thing is that you can stir up hearts when the occasion comes. I feel sure you will surpass yourself at Windsor."
"I wish I felt sure, Betty. Well—I'll do my best to persuade Mark to return with me, but he's obstinate as a mule where his health is concerned. Shall I give him any message from you?"
"You can give him—my love."