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 be in this nineteenth century, who had money in his pocket. If, however, Mr. Ahlberg had made it his business to horrify Mr. Cole, he could not have done it more thoroughly. He bewailed the absence of book-makers at the races, and wished to know why elections were not held in America on Sunday, took occasion to say that religion was merely an affair of the State, and he too was a believer in a system. When they all rose to go, poor Mr. Cole was quite limp and overcome, but he made an effort to retain his self-possession. He urged both Madame Koller and Mr. Ahlberg to attend the morning service on the following Sunday. Both promised conditionally.

The clergyman had walked over from the rectory where his mother presided over his modest establishment.

"Come, Cole," cried the Colonel, who was the soul of hospitality, "here's another seat in the carriage. Come back to dinner with us. I've got some capital champagne, and Olivia will play for you."

"I don't care about the champagne, thank you," answered Mr. Cole, "but I'll come for the pleasure of Miss Olivia's playing and her society also."

Scarcely had the carriage turned into the lane, when Mr. Cole burst forth:

"Miss Olivia, did you ever meet a more godless person in your life than Mr. Ahlberg?"

"I don't think I ever did," answered Olivia, with much sincerity.