known how this man opposite to her had treated her! What did it matter now, though, when she would so soon be out of his power!
"I remember," said Girdlestone, stirring his tea thoughtfully, "when we lived in the City as 'prentice lads together, we shared a room above the shop. He used to have a dormouse that he was very fond of. All his leisure time was spent in nursing the creature and cleaning its cage. It seemed to be his only pleasure in life. One night it was running across the floor, and I put my foot upon it."
"Oh, poor papa!" cried Kate.
"I did it upon principle. 'You have devoted too much time to the creature,' I said. 'Raise up your thoughts higher!' He was grieved and angry, but in time he came to thank me. It was a useful lesson."
Kate was so startled by this anecdote that she remained silent for some little time. "How old were you then?" she asked at last.
"I was about sixteen."
"Then you were always—inclined that way?" She found some difficulty in conveying her meaning in polite tones.
"Yes; I received a call when I was very young. I became one of the elect at an early age."
"And which are the elect?" his ward asked demurely.
"The members of the Community of the Primitive Trinitarians—or, at least those of them who frequent Purbrook Street Chapel. I hold that the ministers in the other chapels that I have attended do not preach the unadulterated word, and have therefore missed the narrow path."
"Then," said Kate, "you think that no one will be saved except those who frequent the Purbrook Street Chapel?"
"And not all of them—no, nor one in ten," the merchant said confidently, and with some approach to satisfaction.
"Heaven must be a very small place," Kate remarked, as she rose from the table.
