‘Miss Maryland does all she can, madam,’ said Mr. Dell, earnestly.  ’She has been the good angel of the village for five years past.’

‘That is just what she looks like,’ said Wych, with a glow of pleasure.  ‘And I’m going to help her all I can.’

‘But do you not think,’ said Mr. Morton, with the dubious look again—­’you are talking, I imagine, of Miss Maryland’s visits among the lower classes,—­do not you think they make a young lady too prominent—­too public—­Mr. Dell?  They bring her among very rough people, Miss Kennedy, I assure you.’

’But, sir, one would not lose the chance of being a good angel for the fear of being prominent.’

‘Or for the fear of anything else,’ said Mr. Dell.

‘Truly not,’ said Mr. Morton.  ’But we gentlemen think, Miss Kennedy, that ladies of a certain stamp can scarcely fail of so desirable a position.’

‘Ah, but I want a pair of bona fide wings!’ said Wych Hazel, and she looked so comically innocent and witch-like that Mr. Morton forgot all else in admiration; and Mr. Dell looked at her with all his eyes as he remarked,—­

’Not to fly away from the poor and needy—­as many of Mr. Morton’s angels do.’

‘Do they?’ said Wych Hazel,—­’where do they fly to?  Mr. Morton, what becomes of your angels?’

‘My angels,’ said Mr. Morton with some emphasis on the pronoun, ’would never be in the majority.  When I said “ladies of a certain stamp,” I by no means intended to say that the class was a large one.’

’No, sir, of course not.  If the class were large, I should suppose the stamp would become very uncertain.  Mr. Dell, what does Crocus want most, just now?’

‘I should say—­angels,’ said Mr. Dell.  He spoke with a smile, but with a shrewd and sensible eye withal.  He was not a beauty, but he had mettle in him.

’That’s a bad want in the present state of the case, as set forth by Mr. Morton.  Are gold angels good for anything as a substitute?’

’Good for very little.  When I said angels, I spoke of what the world most wants, as well as Crocus; angels in human form, I mean, or rather, in their human state of initiation.  There is no substitute.  Gold will do something; but nothing of what a good man or a good woman will do—­anywhere.’

‘Miss Kennedy,’ said Mr. Morton, rising, ’I regret much that a business appointment calls me away.  But if you will indulge me, I will call again the day after to-morrow, in the afternoon, and perhaps I may hope for your company on a drive.  You must make acquaintance with this fine region.’

’Thank you’—­Wych Hazel hesitated, looking for some retreat, finally took shelter behind her guardian.  ’Thank you, sir, I will ask Mr. Falkirk.’