‘Short-sighted, perhaps?’ said Merton.

’Ever since we have been very careful.  But, sir, we seem to have got away from the subject.’

‘It is only seeming,’ said Merton.  ’I have an idea which may be of service to you.’

‘Thank you, most kindly,’ said Mr. Warren.  ‘But as how?’

‘Does your Society ever employ lady lecturers?’

’We prefer them; we are all for enlarging the sphere of woman’s activity—­virtuous activity, I mean.’

‘That is fortunate,’ remarked Merton.  ’You said just now that to try the plan of a counter-attraction was difficult, because there was little of social relaxation in your Society, and you knew no lady who had the opportunities necessary for presenting an agreeable alternative to the charms of Miss Truman.  A young man’s fancy is often caught merely by the juxtaposition of a single member of the opposite sex, with whom he contracts a custom of walking home from chapel.’

‘That’s mostly the way at Bulcester,’ said Mr. Warren.

‘Well,’ Merton went on, ’you are in the habit of entertaining the lecturers at your house.  Now, I know a young lady—­one of our staff, in fact—­who is very well qualified to lecture on “The Use and Abuse of Novels.”  She is a novelist herself; one of the most serious and improving of our younger writers.  In her works virtue (after struggles) is always rewarded, and vice (especially if gilded) is held up to execration, though never allowed to display itself in colours which would bring a blush to the cheek of—­a white rabbit.  Here is her portrait,’ said Merton, taking up a family periodical, The Young Girl.  This blameless journal was publishing a serial story by Miss Martin, one of the ladies who had been enlisted at the dinner given by Logan and Merton when they founded their Society.  A photograph of Miss Martin, in white and in a large shadowy hat, was published in The Young Girl, and certainly no one could have recognised in this conscientiously innocent and domestic portrait the fair author of romances of social adventure and unimagined crime.  ‘There you see our young friend,’ said Merton; ’and the magazine, to which she is a regular contributor, is a voucher for her character as an author.’

Mr. Warren closely scrutinised the portrait, which displayed loveliness and candour in a very agreeable way, and arranged in the extreme of modest simplicity.

‘That is a young woman who bears her testimonials in her face,’ said Mr. Warren.  ’She is one whom a father can trust—­but has she been vaccinated?’

‘Early and often,’ answered Merton reassuringly.  ’Girls with faces like hers do not care to run any risks.’

’Jane Truman does, though my son has put it to her, I know, on the ground of her looks. “Nothing,” she said, “will ever induce me to submit to that filthy, that revolting operation."’