“No, it’s not all nonsense.  Jesus did love the young man.  I believe the story itself before all the Doctors of Divinity in the world.  He loves all of us, he does —­ with all his heart, too.”

“I hope so,” was all she could reply; but she was comforted by Harry’s vehement confession of faith.

Euphra was so far softened, or perhaps weakened, by suffering, that she yielded many things which would have seemed impossible before.  One of these was that she went to church with Mrs. Elton, where that lady hoped she would get good to her soul.  Harry of course was not left behind.  The church she frequented was a fashionable one, with a vicar more fashionable still; for had he left that church, more than half his congregation, which consisted mostly of ladies, would have left it also, and followed him to the ends of London.  He was a middle-aged man, with a rubicund countenance, and a gentle familiarity of manner, that was exceedingly pleasing to the fashionable sheep who, conscious that they had wandered from the fold, were waiting with exemplary patience for the barouches and mail-phaetons of the skies to carry them back without the trouble of walking.  Alas for them! they have to learn that the chariots of heaven are chariots of fire.

The Sunday morning following the conversation I have just recorded, the clergyman’s sermon was devoted to the illustration of the greatness and condescension of the Saviour.  After a certain amount of tame excitement expended upon the consideration of his power and kingdom, one passage was wound up in this fashion: 

“Yes, my friends, even her most gracious Majesty, Queen Victoria, the ruler over millions diverse in speech and in hue, to whom we all look up with humble submission, and whom we acknowledge as our sovereign lady —­ even she, great as she is, adds by her homage a jewel to his crown; and, hailing him as her Lord, bows and renders him worship!  Yet this is he who comes down to visit, yea, dwells with his own elect, his chosen ones, whom he has led back to the fold of his grace.”

For some reason, known to himself, Falconer had taken Hugh, who had gone to him according to appointment that morning, to this same church.  As they came out, Hugh said: 

“Mr. —–­ is quite proud of the honour done his master by the queen.”

“I do not think,” answered Falconer, “that his master will think so much of it; for he once had his feet washed by a woman that was a sinner.”

The homily which Mrs. Elton read at prayers that evening, bore upon the same subject nominally as the chapter that preceded it —­ that of election; a doctrine which in the Bible asserts the fact of God’s choosing certain persons for the specific purpose of receiving first, and so communicating the gifts of his grace to the whole world; but which, in the homily referred to, was taken to mean the choice of certain persons for ultimate salvation, to the exclusion of