Seated at the breakfast table Mrs. Ralston was deeply interested in the morning paper. Truth was still sipping her coffee and seemed to heartily enjoy their first meal together since the day before her memorable wedding.

"What is the news, mother?"

Mrs. Ralston smiled across the table at her daughter's slightly flushed face and eager inquiry she responded happily.

I'm delighted, my child, that you are beginning to take interest in things of the world again, although I know you will be sorry to see this.

She handed Truth the paper opened at the page given to religious affairs, where appeared the picture of Rev. Adoni Bourdalone, under which was printed his resignation from St. Paul's church, with extracts from his farewell sermon preached upon the previous morning. As Truth devoured every word with conflicting emotions which she could scarcely conceal, she dropped the paper upon her lap and sat for a few moments absorbed in meditation, while an expression, difficult to define, swept across her pallid face.

Mrs. Ralston was watching Truth's demeanor with curious interest, then broke the silence by saying: "There is much behind this account that we can not understand and we never will learn the whole truth, but one thing we do know is this: that it will be a hard blow for St. Paul's parishioners to lose Bourdalone; they will search a long time to find another man to fill his place."

"I am confident, mother, that one of his ability and courage will never again preach from the pulpit of St. Paul's."

"Yes indeed, he certainly displayed a wonderful strength of character in delivering fearlessly such a powerful sermon, that impressed many with the false idea that he is not a Christian, for stepping out of the church."

"Perhaps," defended Truth quickly, "he refuses to be labeled by those who do not really know what the word Christian implies."

"Fom his logical reasoning it appears that he does not wish to commit himself to any form of creed, but desires his freedom to preach the true gospel of Christ and live the principles he taught. I must say I agree with him perfectly. I never was an admirer of this implicit obedience, considered such a commendable virtue in religion, and whether he calls himself a Christian or not, he certainly practices more Christianity and is more beloved by the poor and sick than any minister I know. I like his sincerity and honest way of doing things."

"Yes, mother, and he will continue to do far more good outside of the church, among the common people who are not welcome in St. Paul's church, or any other aristocratic parish, where religion is but a hypocritical disguise under silk and satin garments, for many who lack even the first spark of Christianity."

"You are right, my child, but you really surprise me; I never dreamed that you gave any serious thought to religious subjects any more than others going to church only because it seems the proper thing to do."

"I never have, mother, given it any consideration, until Adoni Bourdalone opened my eyes both physically and spiritually."

"By the way, Truth, I have been thinking that now as you have fully recovered, and he has returned from his mother's burial, it would be no more than courtesy to ask him to call."

Truth smiled and replied eagerly: "Do, mother, I shall be more than pleased to have you give me this opportunity to offer my sympathy in his bereavement. I feel intuitively that this is not the only sorrow through which he is passing. That Frances should leave him at such a time, when he is facing all these ordeals, seems disgraceful."

"She seems to delight in outraging propriety," declared Mrs. Ralston emphatically.

"It appears so, mother. I faintly suspect that one of his hardest ordeals has been with her, and that his resignation from the church has had something to do with it. But time will tell," sighed Truth - "We all have our share of trials."

"I hope, child, that you will be strong enough to stand the one with Clarence this afternoon." "Be not alarmed, mother. I can assure you that I feel quite equal to the task but I want you to be present at our interview - will you?" "If you desire it - yes. Come, you must rest a while - I will come to your rooms at the appointed hour." ....

Promptly at three o'clock Clarence Vallero walked swiftly through the beautiful grounds of Mrs. Ralston's home and rang the bell. The servant opened the door. Vallero strode softly through the large reception hall like one paying a visit to the dead.

"Where is my wife?" asked Vallero of the servant, somewhat brusquely.

"She bade me to inform you that she is awaiting you in her own rooms."

Quietly he mounted the stair, rapped lightly - opened the door and gazed at Truth in bewilderment.

"Why," he stammered, "they told me you were sick!"

"So I have been," returned Truth with grave courtesy.

"Well, I must say your illness has certainly agreed with you, for you are looking wonderfully fine. Allow me to congratulate you."

Advancing hastily towards her, he stopped short - . Seeing Mrs. Ralston seated on a partially concealed window seat, a quick frown spread over his face as he muttered with suppressed anger: "Why - I supposed this was to be a private interview with my wife!"

"And so it shall be," replied Truth calmly. "There are no secrets between you and I, Clarence, that mother may not hear, and I have requested her to remain with us during our discussion."

Vallero bit his lips. His glistening eyes flashed at Truth a look of reproach as he scornfully said: "Now, Truth, do you call this fair play, and a decent way to treat a man? Am I not, as your husband, entitled to a little consideration, or have you asked your mother to shield you from any harm you think I may do?"

Truth's face flushed with indignation at this insinuating remark. She glanced at her mother, whose face betrayed the nervous strain under which she was laboring.