Mary Louise told her grandfather of the recent edict of Miss Stearne and the indignation it had aroused in her girl boarders.

“And what do you think of it, Gran’pa Jim?” she asked in conclusion.

“What do you think of it, Mary Louise?”

“It is rather hard on the girls, who have enjoyed their liberty for so long; but I think it is Miss Stearne’s plan to keep them away from the picture theatre.”

“And so?”

“And so,” she said, “it may do the girls more good than harm.”

He smiled approvingly.  It was his custom to draw out her ideas on all questions, rather than to assert his own in advance.  If he found her wrong or misinformed he would then correct her and set her right.

“So you do not approve of the pictures, Mary Louise?”

“Not all of them, Gran’pa Jim, although they all seem to have been ’passed by the Board of Censors’—­perhaps when their eyes were shut.  I love the good pictures, and I know that you do, but some we have seen lately gave me the shivers.  So, perhaps Miss Stearne is right.”

“I am confident she is,” he agreed.  “Some makers of pictures may consider it beneficial to emphasize good by exhibiting evil, by way of contrast, but they are doubtless wrong.  I’ve an old-fashioned notion that young girls should be shielded, as much as possible, from knowledge of the world’s sins and worries, which is sure to be impressed upon them in later years.  We cannot ignore evil, unfortunately, but we can often avoid it.”

“But why, if these pictures are really harmful, does Mr. Welland exhibit them at his theatre?” asked the girl.

“Mr. Welland is running his theatre to make money,” explained the Colonel,” and the surest way to make money is to cater to the tastes of his patrons, the majority of whom demand picture plays of the more vivid sort, such as you and I complain of.  So the fault lies not with the exhibitor but with the sensation-loving public.  If Mr. Welland showed only such pictures as have good morals he would gain the patronage of Miss Stearne’s twelve young ladies, and a few others, but the masses would refuse to support him.”

“Then,” said Mary Louise, “the masses ought to be educated to desire better things.”

“Many philanthropists have tried to do that, and signally failed.  I believe the world is gradually growing better, my dear, but ages will pass before mankind attains a really wholesome mental atmosphere.  However, we should each do our humble part toward the moral uplift of our fellows and one way is not to condone what we know to be wrong.”

He spoke earnestly, in a conversational tone that robbed his words of preachment.  Mary Louise thought Gran’pa Jim must be an exceptionally good man and hoped she would grow, in time, to be like him.  The only thing that puzzled her was why he refused to associate with his fellow men, while at heart he so warmly espoused their uplift and advancement.