“Of course!  Mr. Errol says—­I do wish he were a Churchman, he is such a thoughtful, clever fellow—­he says prejudice, imperfect induction, a wrong application of deductive logic, and one-sided interpretation, down’t you know, literal, figurative, and all that sort of thing, are causes of false dogmatic assertions.”

“My friend Wilkinson, who is a long way past me in these matters, thinks the dogmatists forget that Revelation was a gradual thing, that the ages it came to were like classes in a graded school, and each class got only as much as it could understand, both mentally and morally; and as, of course, it was able to express.”

“Yes; Errol says the same, but with exceptions; because the prophets said a whowle lot of things they didn’t understand.  But, my dear fellow, whatever is the matter with your hands and face?  You’re burnt, you pore sowl, and never said a word about it.  Come on here, I saye; come on!”

Mr. Perrowne laid hold on the lawyer’s arm, and dragged him into the hall.  “Miss Marjorie!” he called; “hi!  Miss Carmichael, come along here, quick, I beg of you, please.”  The lady invoked came running out of the breakfast room, looking very pretty in her fright.  “Look here, Miss Marjorie, at our pore friend’s hands and face, all got by saving you ladies from being burnt alive.”

Miss Carmichael exhibited great concern, and took the patient, who insisted his wounds were nothing to make a fuss over, into the work room, setting him down, with the pressure of her two hands on his broad shoulders, in a comfortable chair between a sewing machine and a small table.  Then she brought warm water, and sponged the hands, anointed the wounds with some home-made preparation, and clothed them in a pair of her uncle’s kid gloves, which were so large and baggy that she had to sit down and laugh at her victim, who felt very happy and very foolish.  Finally she found that Mr. Errol, whose hands were more shapely, had an old pair of gloves in his pocket.  So the Squire’s were taken off, and the discovery made that the hands needed more washing, soaping, and anointing.  Coristine said his ring, a very handsome one, hurt him; would Miss Carmichael please take it off and keep it for him?  Miss Carmichael removed the obnoxious ring, and did not know where to put it, but, in the meantime, to prevent its being lost, slipped it on to one of her own fingers, which almost paralyzed the lawyer with joy.  He could have sat there forever; but the gong sounded for prayers, and he accompanied his nurse into the dining-room.  There the whole household was assembled, even to the idiot Monty, with the exception of Tryphena, engaged in culinary duties, and Sylvanus, who mounted guard over the wounded Newcome.  Ben Toner also was absent, having ridden off to summon Dr. Halbert.  Mr. Perrowne, at the Squire’s request, read the chapter for the day, and the minister offered a prayer, brief but fervent, returning thanks for the deliverance