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Brutal indeed my proposition was, and Mrs. Church was not prepared to assent to it in this rough shape. She dropped her eyes on her book, with an air of acute meditation. Then, raising them, “We are very crude,” she softly observed–“we are very crude.” Lest even this delicately-uttered statement should seem to savour of the vice that she deprecated, she went on to explain. “There are two classes of minds, you know–those that hold back, and those that push forward. My daughter and I are not pushers; we move with little steps. We like the old, trodden paths; we like the old, old world.”

“Ah,” said I, “you know what you like; there is a great virtue in that.”

“Yes, we like Europe; we prefer it. We like the opportunities of Europe; we like the REST. There is so much in that, you know. The world seems to me to be hurrying, pressing forward so fiercely, without knowing where it is going. ‘Whither?’ I often ask, in my little quiet way. But I have yet to learn that any one can tell me.”

“You’re a great conservative,” I observed, while I wondered whether I myself could answer this inquiry.

Mrs. Church gave me a smile which was equivalent to a confession. “I wish to retain a LITTLE–just a little. Surely, we have done so much, we might rest a while; we might pause. That is all my feeling- -just to stop a little, to wait! I have seen so many changes. I wish to draw in, to draw in–to hold back, to hold back.”

“You shouldn’t hold your daughter back!” I answered, laughing and getting up. I got up, not by way of terminating our interview, for I perceived Mrs. Church’s exposition of her views to be by no means complete, but in order to offer a chair to Miss Aurora, who at this moment drew near. She thanked me and remained standing, but without at first, as I noticed, meeting her mother’s eye.

“You have been engaged with your new acquaintance, my dear?” this lady inquired.

“Yes, mamma, dear,” said the young girl, gently.

“Do you find her very edifying?”

Aurora was silent a moment; then she looked at her mother. “I don’t know, mamma; she is very fresh.”

I ventured to indulge in a respectful laugh. “Your mother has another word for that. But I must not,” I added, “be crude.”

“Ah, vous m’en voulez?” inquired Mrs. Church. “And yet I can’t pretend I said it in jest. I feel it too much. We have been having a little social discussion,” she said to her daughter. “There is still so much to be said.” “And I wish,” she continued, turning to me, “that I could give you our point of view. Don’t you wish, Aurora, that we could give him our point of view?”

“Yes, mamma,” said Aurora.

“We consider ourselves very fortunate in our point of view, don’t we, dearest?” mamma demanded.

“Very fortunate, indeed, mamma.”

“You see we have acquired an insight into European life,” the elder lady pursued. “We have our place at many a European fireside. We find so much to esteem–so much to enjoy. Do we not, my daughter?”

“So very much, mamma,” the young girl went on, with a sort of inscrutable submissiveness. I wondered at it; it offered so strange a contrast to the mocking freedom of her tone the night before; but while I wondered I was careful not to let my perplexity take precedence of my good manners.

“I don’t know what you ladies may have found at European firesides,” I said, “but there can be very little doubt what you have left there.”

Mrs. Church got up, to acknowledge my compliment. “We have spent some charming hours. And that reminds me that we have just now such an occasion in prospect. We are to call upon some Genevese friends– the family of the Pasteur Galopin. They are to go with us to the old library at the Hotel de Ville, where there are some very interesting documents of the period of the Reformation; we are promised a glimpse of some manuscripts of poor Servetus, the antagonist and victim, you know, of Calvin. Here, of course, one can only speak of Calvin under one’s breath, but some day, when we are more private,” and Mrs. Church looked round the room, “I will give you my view of him. I think it has a touch of originality. Aurora is familiar with, are you not, my daughter, familiar with my view of Calvin?”