uty as junior curate."

"Have you kept the letter?"

"It is in my desk at my hotel, with some other correspondence of Father
Tatham's. You may see it if you wish."

"I will see it. In the meanwhile, let me have the pith of it. This
clergyman--happening to visit a Registrar's office---- Where was the
office?"

"At Cookham-on-Thames, where Father Tatham has established a Holiday Rest
Home for the benefit of our London working lads"--the Chaplain begins. He
is sitting on the end of the bed, weak and worn and exhausted with the
emotions that have torn him in the last half-hour. Beads of perspiration
thickly stud the high temples, out of which the flushing colour has sunk;
his cheeks are pallid and hollow. His eyes have lost their fire; his
muscles are flaccidly relaxed; his sloping shoulders stoop; his long, limp
hands hang nervelessly at his sides.

"One moment." Saxham glances at the gold chronometer that was a
presentation from the students of St. Stephen's years ago. It is rather
typical of the man that, even when under stress of his heroic thirst he
has pawned the watch for money wherewith to buy whisky, he should have
only borrowed upon it such small sums as are easily repaid. He has yet
another five minutes to bestow in listening to the Chaplain's story, yet
even as he returns the chronometer to its pocket, his quick ear catches
the frou-frou of feminine petticoats outside the door. He opens it,
frowning. A nurse is standing there with a summons in her face. She
delivers her low-toned message, receives a brusque reply, and rustles down
the corridor between the long lines of pallets as Saxham draws back his
head and shuts the door, and, setting his great shoulders against it, and
facing Julius, orders:

"Go on!"

Julius goes on:

"At Roselawn Cottage--a pretty place of the toy-residence description,
standing in charming gardens not far from the Holiday Rest Home, lived a
lady--an actress very popular in Musical Comedy--who was known to be the
mistress of Lord Beauvayse. I need hardly tell you the Father touched on
the unpleasant features of the story as delicately as possible----"

"Without doubt. But--get on a little quicker," says Saxham grimly, jerking
his head towards the door. "For I am wanted. And don't speak loud, for
there are people on the other side there. With regard to this
woman--actress, or whatever she may be----?"

"With all her moral laxities," goes on Julius, "Miss Lessie Lavigne----"