"Words only, not deeds."
"My husband visits the poor," said Derrice, sturdily.
"Well now, young lady, what do you think of me? I am not religious, I play cards all day on Sunday if I choose. I do not believe in what you call revealed religion. What is to become of me?"
"It would be hard for me to believe anything against you," replied Derrice, with quiet grace.
"But what will become of me when I die? Your preachers send me right down, down, down,—direct. What do you think about it?"
Derrice silently appealed to Mr. Huntington, but he would not reply, though his kind smile urged her on.
"Where am I going?" pursued Miss Gastonguay.
"How can I tell?"
"But you have your little narrow creed all made up. Saints this way, sinners that. I am no saint, yet I am not an out-and-out sinner."
Derrice stirred uneasily in her seat, and earnestly longed for her husband. At last a solution of the difficulty occurred to her. "What kind of people do you like to be with in this world, Miss Gastonguay?"