"Vanity, mama. Reverend McCarthy is regarded as the most vain man in the church. Jean here has never flattered him—tickled his vanity, and this is the price he's paying."

"Well," said her mother. "Such as this can't keep up. Some day he's going to be called on to pay—and the debt will be large."

"Understand that he aspires for the bishopric in the convention next month," said Mildred.

"Shucks!" exclaimed her mother. "That's all bluff. He seeks to grab off a little cheap notoriety around Chicago before he goes to conference. There is as much chance of his being even entered as a candidate for the office as there is of me."

"That's what I think," from Mildred.

"What are your plans, Jean?" her mother now inquired of Baptiste who sat in a sort of stupor listening to their talk.

"I am trying to get to see her without the old man's knowledge." And he told them of his conversation with Mrs. Pruitt.

"Isn't that a wife, now!" exclaimed Mildred. "Afraid to meet the man she has married."

"Orlean and old lady McCarthy have no voice in that house," said her mother. "First it's the Reverend, and then follows Ethel."

"And it hardly seems credible when one knows how he has always flirted with other women," said Mildred.

"I asked Orlean the last time I saw her," said Mildred again, "what was the matter; was Jean mean to her, or had he neglected her. She said: No, that he was just as good to her as he could be, but that she could not stay out in that wild country; that it would impair her health, and she just couldn't stay out there, and that was all."

"Reverend McCarthy," said her mother.

"Of course. But that is one thing I have observed. They have never got her to lie as they have done, and say that he mistreated her." From Mildred.

"It's to be regretted that she has not more will to stand up for what she knows to be right," said her mother.

"You have taken it up with the right person, Jean," said Mildred. "If any one can help you in such a delicate undertaking, it is Mrs. Pruitt. She has more influence with that old rascal than his wife. In fact, his wife, from what I hear, has no influence at all."

"Well, Jean," said Mildred's mother, "you are to be admired for the patience you have exercised with Orlean. The average man would have knocked that old white headed rascal stiff and let Orlean go, and I don't wonder that if I was a man that I wouldn't have done so myself."

"If I were that weak, and could see things as I do now, I would want my husband to shoot me. I'm getting out of patience with Orlean's weakness," Mildred added.