If I were Mr. “Perhaps,” he queried, “you wish to avoid being seen about with any one—er— connected with the profession, under present circumstances. He—he has rather a poor opinion of his contemporaries. Her pa was only the smithy. Immediately beneath the pulpit stood a large circular pew where malefactors under sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where they formed a public spectacle to the crowds, which curiosity generally attracted on those occasions. He must have married when he was quite a young man. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. Mr. Deep silences came between them.
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