She bent her head, so that the faded placid lips could kiss her cheek, and went out into the quiet street.

Instead of turning homeward, she hastened in an opposite direction, toward a small brick church whose bell was ringing, and whose afternoon service she had several times attended with Mrs. Mason.  Walking more slowly as she approached the building, she had not yet reached it, when steps which she had heard behind her for several minutes, paused at her side.

“Regina, is this the way home?”

“Good-evening, Mr. Palma.  I am going to church.”

Although he had been absent a week he did not even offer his hand, and it never occurred to her to remind him of the omission.

“Are you in the habit of coming here alone?  If so, your visits to this neighbourhood cease.”

“Mrs. Mason has always accompanied me until this after noon, and as she could not leave home I came alone.”

“I prefer you should not attend strange churches without a companion, and now I will see you safely home.”

She looked up, saw a few persons ascending the broad steps, and her soul rose in rebellion;

“What possible harm can overtake me in God’s house?  Don’t try to stand between me and my duty.”

“Do you not consider obedience to my wishes part of your duty?”

“Sometimes, sir; but not when it conflicts with my conscience.”

“What is conscience?”

“The feeling God put into my soul when He gave it to me, to teach me right from wrong.”

“Is it?  And if you were a Calmuck or a Mongol, it would teach you to reverence Shigemooni as the highest god; and bid you fall down and worship Dalai-lama, praying him to give you a pill of consecrated dough.”

“You mean that conscience is merely education?  Even if it should be so—­which is not true, I think—­the Bible says ’the heathen are a law unto themselves,’ and God knows they worship the best they can find until revelation shows them their error.  But I do not live in Lassa, and my going to church here, is not akin to Lamaism.  Nothing will happen to me, and I assure you, sir, I will come home as soon as the service is over.”

“Is your eternal salvation dependent on church going?”

“I don’t know, I rather think not; because if it were impossible for me to attend service the Lord would know it, and He only requires what He makes possible.  But at least you must admit it cannot harm me; and I enjoy coming to this church more than any I have seen since I left our own dear old one at V——.”

“It is a small, very plain affair, in no respect comparable to St. Thomas’s Church, where Mrs. Palma takes you every Sunday morning.  Where you not there to-day?”

“Yes, sir; but——­”

“But—­what?  Speak out.”  “Perhaps I ought not to say so,—­and it may be partly my fault, but indeed there seems to me more real religion in this plain little chapel, at least it does me more good to come here.”