’So it is, sir, so it is; but the interest is now bound to the chariot wheels of the truckling Toryism of our time—­to the sycophants who basely made vaccination permissive, and paltered with the Conscientious Objector.  These badges, sir’—­the client pointed to his own crimson decorations—­’proclaim that I have been vaccinated on both arms, as a testimony to the immortal though, in Bulcester, maligned discovery of the great Jenner.  Sir, I am hooted in the public streets of my native town, where Anti-vaccinationism is a frenzy.  Mr. Rider Haggard, the author of Dr. Therne, has been burned in effigy for his thrilling and manly protest to which I owe my own conversion.’

‘Then the conversion is relatively recent?’ asked Merton.

’It dates since my reading of that powerful argument, sir; that appeal to reason which overcame my prejudice, for I was a prominent A. V.’

‘Ave?’ asked Merton.

‘A.  V., sir—­Anti-Vaccinationist.  A. C. D. A. too, and always,’ he added proudly; but Merton did not think it prudent to ask for further explanations.

’An A. V. I was, an A. V. I am no longer; and I defy popular clamour, accompanied by brickbats, to shake my principles.’

‘Justum et tinacem propositi virum,’ murmured Merton, adding, ’All that is very interesting, but, my dear sir, while I admire the tenacity of your principles, will you permit me to ask, what has vaccination to do with the special business of our firm?’

‘Why, sir, I have a family, and my eldest son—­’

‘Does he decline to be vaccinated?’ asked Merton, in a sympathetic voice.

‘No, sir, or he would never darken my doorway,’ exclaimed this more than Roman father.  ’But he is engaged, and I can never give my consent; and if he marries that girl, the firm ceases to be “Warren & Son, wax-cloth manufacturers.”  That’s all, sir—­that’s all.’

Mr. Warren again applied his red handkerchief to his glowing features.

’And what, may I ask, are the grounds of your objection to this engagement?  Social inequality?’ asked Merton.

’No, the young lady is the daughter of one of our leading ministers, Mr. Truman—­author of The Bishops to the Block—­but principles are concerned.’

’You cannot mean that the young lady is excessively addicted to the—­wine cup?’ asked Merton gravely.  ’In melancholy cases of that kind Mr. Hall Caine, in a romance, has recommended hypnotic treatment, but we do not venture to interfere.’

‘You misunderstand me, sir,’ replied Mr. Warren, frowning.  ’The young woman, on principle, as they call it, has never been vaccinated.  Like most of our prominent citizens, her father (otherwise an excellent man) objects to what he calls “The Worship of the Calf” on grounds of conscience.’

‘Conscience!  It is a hard thing to constrain the conscience,’ murmured Merton, quoting a remark of Queen Mary to John Knox.