John repeated the stanza, his eyes fixed upon the knight.

Mike said—­

“How different to-day the girls of the neighbourhood, their prayer-books and umbrellas!  Yet I don’t think the anachronism displeases me.”

“You say that to provoke me; you cannot think that all the dirty little milliners’ girls of the neighbourhood are more dignified than these Templars marching in procession and taking their places with iron clangour in the choir.”

“So far as that is concerned,” said Mike, who loved to “draw” John, “the little girls of the neighbourhood in all probability wash themselves a great deal oftener than the Templars ever did.  And have you forgotten the accusations that were brought against them before the ecclesiastical tribunal assembled in London?  What about the black idol with shining eyes and gilded head?”

“Their vices were at least less revolting than the disgustful meanness of to-day; besides, nothing is really known about the reasons for the suppression of the Templars.  Men who forswear women are open to all contumely.  Oh! the world is wondrous, just wondrous well satisfied with its domestic ideals.”

The conversation came to a pause, and then Mike spoke of Lily Young, and extolled her subtle beauty and intelligence.

“I never liked any one as I do her.  I am ashamed of myself when I think of her purity.”

“The purity of ...  Had she been pure she would have remained in her convent.”

“If you had heard her speak of her temptations....”

“I do not want to hear her temptations.  But it was you who tempted her to leave her convent.  I cannot but think that you should marry her.  There is nothing for you but marriage.  You must change your life.  Think of the constant sin you are living in.”

“But I don’t believe in sin.”

With a gesture that declared a non-admission of such a state of soul, John hesitated, and then he said—­

“The beastliness of it!”

“We have to live,” said Mike, “since nature has so willed it, but I fully realize the knightliness of your revolt against the principle of life.”

John continued his admonitions, and Mike an amused and appreciative listener.

“At all events, I wish you would promise not to indulge in improper conversation when I am present.  It is dependent upon me to beg of you to oblige me in this.  It will add greatly to your dignity to refrain; but that is your concern; I am thinking now only of myself.  Will you promise me this?”

“Yes, and more; I will promise not to indulge in such conversation, even when you are not present.  It is, as you say, lowering....  I agree with you.  I will strive to mend my ways.”