Her hostess looked around the table. The way of sinners, the seat of the scornful, had never been hers. These people about her board were all serious, thoughtful, and worthy of respect.
"If you like good people," said Derrice, "then you will be with them in the world to come."
"Child, you are too liberal, too generous for your creed. Morality does not save,—I have had that shrieked in my ears ever since I was born. You must have religion."
"Perhaps you have it and do not know it."
"What is religion, according to you?"
"I know very little. I have not learned much yet. Is it not that one must have faith in the Bible, and believe in one God and in his Son?"
"I do not believe in the inspiration of the Bible; it was written by men like ourselves."
Derrice shrank back. "But would you be happy in heaven, then?"
"But would I be happy!" muttered Miss Gastonguay, "and this is the girl I am to remember in my will," and she closed the conversation and abruptly turned to her niece, who had just come in, and was taking her place with an amused, cynical expression of countenance.