harder she esteemed it her duty to fight. She fought for Church and
State, for parsons and poor people, for the sincerity of her friends,
the virtues of the Royal Family, the merit of Dr. Drugson's
prescriptions, and for her favourite theory that there is some good in
everyone and some happiness to be found every where.

She rubbed nervously at the diamond brooch with her thin little mittened
hands. She talked very fast; and if the lawyer were guilty of feeling
any ungallant indifference to her observations, she did not so much as
hear his, and her cheeks became so flushed that Mrs. Dunmaw crossed the
room in her China crape shawl and said, "My dear Miss Kitty, I'm sure
you feel the heat very much. Do take my fan, which is larger than
yours."

But Miss Kitty was saved a reply, for at this moment Miss Betty turned
on the sofa, and said, "Dear Kitty, will you kindly see if the
servant--"

And the parson closed the volume of "Friendship's Offering" which lay
before him, and advanced towards Mrs. Dunmaw and took leave in his own
dignified way.

Miss Kitty was so much flustered that she had not even presence of mind
to look for the servant, who had never been ordered to come, but the
parson relieved her by saying in his round, deep voice, "I hope you will
not refuse me the honour of seeing you home, since our roads happen to
lie together," And she was glad to get into the fresh air, and beyond
the doubtful compliments of the lawyer's nasal suavity--"You have been
very severe upon me to-night, Miss Kitty. I'm sure I had no notion I
should find so powerful an antagonist," etc.