All Roads Lead to Calvary

e and her father should spend Christmas with his people at Birmingham. Her father thought he would like

rthur how his impulsiveness had interfered with it. Arthur, crestfallen, suggested telegrams. It would be quite easy to alter everything; and of course her father would rather be with her, wherever it was. But it seemed it was too late. She ought to have been consulted. A sudden sense of proprietorship in her father came to her assistance and added patho

rself. It was an unpleasant sensation and somewhat new to her experience. An evening spent in Arthur's company might do her good. The experiment proved successful. He really was quite a dear boy. Eyeing him thoughtfully through the smoke of her cigarette, it occurred to her how like he

She was feeling very kindly towards him; and was able to soften her decision with touches of gentle regret. He did not appear in the least upset. But 'though

ude of aloofness. What did he mean by a "noble

though he had no objection to a worthy Duke. He meant any

ose to her. At present no sign of him had appeared above the horizon. Her own idea was that, if she lived long eno

ile about his mouth. But his e

hat you are old and

air was grey-or rather white. She had been informed by exp

y me when your hair is w

e. "Yes," she answered. "In case you haven't

o your promise," he

ly. "I want you to marry," she said, "and b

worshipping eyes of his that always ma

th you always so that I might serve you. But I am quite happy, lovi

prayer that she might always be worthy of his homage

father at The Pines. They were busy on a plan for securing the co-operation of the workmen, and she promised

m and his mother, and even Madge had been struck homesick. It happened to be a Sunday, too, of all days in the week, and London in a drizzling rain was just about the limit. She worked till late in the afternoon, but, sitting down to her solitary cup o

on had smiled and nodded. The service, with its need for being continually upon the move, bored her; she was not in the mood for it. And the sermon, preached by a young curate who had not yet got over his Oxford drawl, was uninteresting. She had half hoped that the wheezy old clergyman, who had preached about Calvary on the evening she had first visited the church, would be there again. She wondered what had become of him, and if it were really a fact that she had known him when she was a chil

mas she had had, all by herself, without a soul to speak to except her l

so glad I did." She gave the little old lady a hug. Mar

Joan. "Now that I've seen a friendly fa

nd into Joan's. "You wouldn't care to come home and have

I?" answe

You won't mind if anybody drops in?" she sa

ean a party?

"It's only one or two who

thought she would

s company for me,

w and a door below. The upstairs rooms belonged to the churchwardens and were used as a storehouse for old parish registers, deemed of little value. Mary Stopperton and her be

the door?" s

s been found out just as it was h

he explained. "They know, if t

eated Joan in the worn horsehair easy-chair; out of which one had to be careful one did not

y for a minute," she said. "I

nt shrill, complaining voice. At times, it rose

tor's," she whispered. "His medici

red the exertion of talking might be too much for him. "He g

silent little house behind its strip of garde

wearing a large black hat and a black boa round her neck. Between them her face shone unnaturall

opperton has just gone round to the doctor'

and, apparently reassured,

d in the direction of the next room. She placed her bag care

little fretful," answ

ling better." She seated herself on the sofa and fi

oan. "I rather fa

aid the girl, "to buy hi

n, "so I made her promise not to part wit

this time," answered the girl. "

or with her back against the wall. Had sold every stick in the place and gone off. But she'd always some excuse for him. It was sure to be half her fault and the other half he couldn't help. Now she's got her

to depress her sp

g the time of her life: someone to look after for t

e in silence. "Are you

oan. "But my mot

"I'm in the chorus. It's better than being in ser

at," suggested Joan. "You

eyes and a mobile, sensitive mouth. "Oh, yes," she said, "I could act all

ought that sort of thing

answered. "Anyhow, it was the only chance I ever had.

could act," said Joan. "Next t

she said; "once you're put down as one of the s

dismissed with a toss of your head. I thought it all out. Don

e fire. "Have you known Mary

he girl. "Ever since

it over with h

y have just told her. She isn'

," said Joan: "that you pu

. "Afraid I wasn't thinking

that's the way the best fights

or in. She disappeared again, and they talked about themselves. The gi

etting on with peo

t. She shook her head at the contents, which consisted of a small, f

ned Mary. "You could have bought yourself

ouble of cooking it," answered the

earie," grumbled Mary. "There's

for your fun," she said. "I'll bring a sol

iss Ensor proceeded to lay the table. "How many, do you think?" she asked. Mary was do

She laid for four, leaving space for more if need be. "I call it the 'Cadger's Arms,'" she explained, turning to Joan. "We bring our own victuals, and

ins and a saucepan. "Of course I do, dearie," s

essed in black. He carried a paper parcel which he laid upon the table. He looked a little doubtf

utral ground. But in all matters of moment I expect we a

ered Joan, with a smile. "I, to

ple, so long as they remember that they are the People, and keep thei

ested Joan. "And I may still have to go on

imson, "someone has got to be Ma

t contained half a sheep's head. "How

o his eyes. "How did you do it last time?" he asked

," sugge

" He watched while Mary took things needful fro

ressing her individually or imaginary thousands. "Likes working for nothing. Thinks she was born to be everybody'

ked him. "Saw you from the distance, wav

u know. Sort of crowd that interrupts you and tries to

do it?" aske

on, with a burst of candour. "Can't h

ry?" suggest

happened to be passing last Wednesday when I was speaking

'em to like it, can yo

fight to the finish between me and the Bourgeois. I cover them with ri

get the best of you,"

another place all right: give me time. The on

with you?" inqu

tened. You know. Says life with me is going to be

t," advised Miss Ensor, "g

t to tackle them," he said. "Tell them th

n't be you," sugg

ham pie was ready. Mary arranged it in front of her. "Eat it while

, he's lost his job again, and is losing his girl: all because of

r had stated, advice was not her line. "Perha

?" exclaimed Miss Ensor. "Who's m

her cooking. "It's something inside us, dearie,"

that twaddle?" demanded Miss

ut I expect it's got its purpos

ie. The hirsute face of Mr. Simson had lost the foolish aggressiv

he was. "It's the smell of all the nice things," she explained. M

shoulders. Only the head seemed to have retained its vigour. The face, from which the long black hair was brushed straight back, was ghastly white. Out of it, deep set beneath great shaggy, overhanging brows, b

ectful, rose and offered his small, grimy hand. Mary took his hat and cloak away from him and closed the door b

aring his name. It

asked. She had often wonde

ird, the pariah, the blasphemer, the anti-Christ. I've hoofs instead of feet. Shall I take off my boots and show them to you? I tuck m

a paper bag. "You mustn't get excited," she said, laying her little

don't die on Christmas Day. It would ma

almost transparent hands str

room, broken only by Mary's ministerin

ir?" he asked. "I of

rietor, and editor and publisher, a

on the History of Superstition. Qui

fraid, to the final chapt

. Simson, "though I cannot myself go as far as you

Simson, eager for argument or

orner voice, "or whether, with the great French writer whose name for the moment escapes me, we regard Him m

cely that Mr. Simson's arm involunt

ere shall win for them some wonderful reward when they are dead. What has been his teaching to the poor? Bow your backs to the lash, kiss the rod that scars your flesh. Be ye humble, oh, my people. Be ye poor in spirit. Let Wrong rule triumphant through the world.

l taught. Their fat priests shall bear his message to the poor. The rod may be broken, the prison door be fo

y he was less familiar with the opinions

is words may have been twisted, Christ Himself I regard as divine, and e

's vigour had not y

avage head that the bony, wizened throat seemed hardly strong enough to bear. "Wealth, honour, happiness: I had them once. I had wife, children and a home. Now I creep an outcast, keeping to the shadows, and the children in

g finished her su

seem to pay you." There was a curious smile

with his last f

is cause came I into the world, that I shou

f her apron, and felt again his trembling hands. "Oh, please don't talk to him any more," she pleaded, "not till he's had his supper." She fetched her f

us dignity. He might have been some ancient prophet stepped from the pages of the Talmud. Miss Ensor comple

e to face. There was almost the sugges

he High Priests and the Pharisees; and Inez a dancer before the people; and Joanna a da

a Christian?" h

." She spoke without thinking, not quite knowing wha

could be interesting when he got away from his fanaticism; and even the ap

oor. Mary apologized. She had to go out. The party broke up. Mary disappeared into the next room and returne

she confided to Joan. She

said, "one so seldom hears of an

d never seen a face look quite so

ist's birthday," she said,

orner. Joan could see

kissed the littl

op," she

watched the little child-like figure growing