"It ought,—it ought indeed!" agreed Adderley—"I do not suppose there is another clergyman in England who obliterates the plate from the worship of the Almighty! It is so remote—so very remote!"
"I think he's a funny sort of parson altogether,"—said Cicely meditatively—"He doesn't beg, borrow or steal,—he isn't a toady, he isn't a hypocrite, and he speaks his mind. Queer, isn't it?"
"Very!" laughed Lord Charlemont—"I don't know another like him, give you my word!"
"Well, he can't preach,"—said Lady Beaulyon, decisively—"I never heard quite such a stupid sermon."
All the members of the house-party glanced at one another to see if this verdict were generally endorsed. Apparently some differed in opinion.
"Didn't you like it, Eva?" asked Maryllia.
"My dear child! Who COULD like it! Such transcendental stuff! And all that nonsense about the Soul! In these scientific days too!"
"Ah science, science!" sighed Mr. Bludlip Courtenay, dropping his monocle with a sharp click against his top waistcoat button—"Where will it end?"
Nobody volunteered a reply to this profound proposition.
"'Souls' are noted for something else than being saved for heaven nowadays, aren't they, Lady Beaulyon?" queried Lord Charlemont, with a knowing smile.