"But what plan was it?"
"I thought I should be able to set up a sort of broad church chapel. I had a promise."
Her voice was rich with indignation. "And she has betrayed you?"
"No," he said, "I have betrayed her."
Lady Ella's face showed them still at cross purposes. He looked down again and frowned. "I can't do that chapel business," he said. "I've had to let her down. I've got to let you all down. There's no help for it. It isn't the way. I can't have anything to do with Lady Sunderbund and her chapel."
"But," Lady Ella was still perplexed.
"It's too great a sacrifice."
"Of us?"
"No, of myself. I can't get into her pulpit and do as she wants and keep my conscience. It's been a horrible riddle for me. It means plunging into all this poverty for good. But I can't work with her, Ella. She's impossible."
"You mean—you're going to break with Lady Sunderbund?"
"I must."
"Then, Teddy!"—she was a woman groping for flight amidst intolerable perplexities—"why did you ever leave the church?"
"Because I have ceased to believe"
