questions about the way of living that has brought you to believe
in the divine efficacy of unhappiness."

"My father is a clergyman," answered the girl, with a smile.

"Exactly!" said the heathen god.

"We have lived very quietly, in one of the streets of older New
York. I won't tell you the number, for of course it would not
mean anything to you."

"Of course not," said Apollo.

"He is rector of a queer little old-fashioned church that has
existed since the days of Washington. It is quaint and
irregular, and I am very fond of it."

"It isn't the Little Church of All the Saints?" demanded her
companion.

"It is. How did you know?"

"Divination," he answered.

"Oh!" said Daphne. "Why don't you divine the rest?"

"I should rather hear you tell it, if you don't mind."

"I have studied with my father a great deal," she went on. "And
then, there have been a great many social things, for I have an