‘"Conscience doth make cowards of us all,” as Bacon says,’ replied Merton, ’or at least of such of us as are unenlightened.  But to come to business.  What do you think of asking our young friend down to lecture—­on Friday week, I think you said—­on the Use and Abuse of Novels?  You could easily persuade her, I dare say, to stay over Sunday—­longer if necessary—­and then young Mr. Warren would at least find out that there is more than one young woman in the world.’

‘I shall be delighted to see your friend,’ answered Mr. Warren.  ’At Bulcester we welcome intellect, and a real novelist of moral tendencies would make quite a sensation in our midst.’

‘They are but too scarce at present,’ Merton answered—­’novelists of high moral tone.’

‘She is not a Christian Scientist?’ asked Mr. Warren anxiously.  ’They reject vaccination, like all other means appointed, and rely on miracles, which ceased with the Apostolic age, being no longer necessary.’

‘The lady, I can assure you, is not a Christian Scientist,’ said Merton ’but comes of an Evangelical family.  Shall I give you her address?  In my opinion it would be best to write to her from Bulcester, on the official paper of the Literary Society.’  For Merton wished to acquaint Miss Martin with the nature of her mission, lecturing being an art which she had never cultivated.

‘There is just one thing,’ remarked Mr. Warren hesitatingly.  ’This young lady, if our James lets his affections loose on her—­how would that be, sir?’

Merton smiled.

’Why, no great harm would be done, Mr. Warren.  You need not fear any complication:  any new matrimonial difficulty.  The affection would be all on one side, and that side would not be the lady lecturer’s.  I happen to know that she has a prior attachment.’

‘Vaccinated!’ cried Mr. Warren, letting a laugh out of him.

‘Exactly,’ said Merton.

Mr. Warren now gladly concurred in the plan of his adviser, after which the interview was concerned with financial details.  Merton usually left these vague, but in Mr. Warren he saw a client who would feel more confidence if everything was put on a strictly business footing.  The client retired in a hopeful frame of mind, and Merton went to look for Miss Martin at her club, where she was usually to be found at the hour of tea.

He was fortunate enough to find her, dressed by no means after the style of her portrait in The Young Girl, but still very well dressed.  She offered him the refreshment of tea and toast—­very good toast, Merton thought—­and he asked how her craft as a novelist was prospering.  Friends of Miss Martin were obliged to ask, for they did not read The Young Girl, or the other and less domestic serials in which her works appeared.

‘I am doing very well, thank you,’ said Miss Martin.  ’My tale The Curate’s Family has raised the circulation of The Young Girl; and, mind you, it is no easy thing for a novelist to raise the circulation of any periodical.  For example, if The Quarterly Review published a new romance, even by Mr. Thomas Hardy, I doubt if the end would justify the proceedings.’