LAURA. No High Church ways, I hope? If they go in for that here, I shall go out!
JULIA (patiently explanatory). You will go out if you wish to go out. You can choose your church. As I tell you, I always go to hear Mr. Moore; you can go and hear Canon Farrar.
LAURA. Dean Farrar, I suppose you mean.
JULIA. He was not Dean in my day.
LAURA. He ought to have been a Bishop—_Arch_bishop, I think— so learned, and such a magnificent preacher. But I still wonder why we don't see Moses and the Prophets.
JULIA. Well, Laura, it's the world as we knew it-that for the present. No doubt other things will come in time, gradually. But I don't know: I don't ask questions.
LAURA (doubtfully). I suppose it is Heaven, in a way, though?
JULIA. Dispensation has its own ways, Laura; and we have ours.
LAURA (who is not going to be theologically dictated to by anyone lower than Dean Farrar). Julia, I shall start washing the old china again.
JULIA. As you like; nothing ever gets soiled here.