were deserting their posts, the Church she loved seemed tottering, a horrid confusion and anarchy was everywhere.
And all that she could do was to pray. But as the girl moved about her simple household duties, as she tended the sick man with an almost wifely care, her prayers went on unceasingly and every action was interwoven with supplication.
Pale, subdued, but with a quiet clearness and resolution in his eye, Basil came down to the meal. There was but little conversation during it. Afterwards, Helena went to her own room, knowing that her father and Gortre wished to be left alone.
In the study the two men sat on either side of the fireplace. Basil wore a long dressing-gown of camel's-hair. He would not smoke, the doctor had forbidden it, but Mr. Byars lit his pipe with a sigh of satisfaction.
"To think, Basil," the older man said in a broken voice, "to think that Christmas is upon us now! It's the vigil of Christmas, and never since our Lord's Passion has the world been in such a state. And worse than all is our utter impotence!" His voice grew almost angry. "We know, know as surely as we know anything, that this terrible business is some stupendous mistake or fraud. But there isn't the slightest possibility of any one listening to us. On one side the weightiest expert proof, on the other nothing but a conviction to oppose to what appear to be the hardest facts. I cannot blame any non-Christian for acquiescing in this discovery. Viewing the thing clearly and without prejudice, I can't blame any one. It is only the smallest minority, even of professing Christians, whose faith is strong enough to keep them from an utter denial of our Lord's Divinity. It is simply a matter of long personal experience that gives you and me and Helena our confidence in this utter
