rs. An amateur theatrical clergyman's costume will be
more comfortable, and probably less erroneous. They allow them some
latitude, I believe; and I don't suppose there are any visible ordination
scars whose absence would give me away. I shall certainly study the first
reverend brother I meet to see."

Thus wisely ruminating, he arrived in London at a very early hour on a
chilly morning, and drove straight to a small hotel near King's Cross,
where the landlord was much gratified at receiving so respectable a guest
as the Rev. Alexander Butler. ("I must begin with a B." said Mr Bunker to
himself; "I think it's lucky.")

It is true the reverend gentleman was in evening clothes, while his hat
and coat had a singularly secular, not to say fashionable, appearance;
but, as he mentioned casually in the course of some extremely affable
remarks, he had been dining in a country house, and had not thought it
worth while changing before he left. After breakfasting he dressed himself
in an equally secular suit of tweeds and went out, he mentioned
incidentally, to call at his tailor's for his professional habit, which he
seemed surprised to learn had not yet been forwarded to the hotel.

A visit to a certain well-known firm of theatrical costumiers was followed
by his reappearance in a cab accompanied by a bulky brown paper parcel;
and presently he emerged from his room attired more consistently with his
office, much to his own satisfaction, for, as he observed, "I cannot say I
approve of clergymen masquerading as laymen."

His opinion on the converse circumstance was not expressed.

Much to his landlord's disappointment, he informed him that he should
probably leave again that afternoon, and then he went out for a walk.

About half an hour later he was once more in the street where, not so very
long ago, a very exciting cab-race had finished. He strolled slowly past
Dr Twiddel's house. The blinds of the front room were down; at that hour
there was no sign of life about it, and he saw nothing at all to arrest
his attention. Then he looked down the other side of the street, and to
his great satisfaction spied a card, with the legend "Apartments to let,"
in one of the first-floor windows of a house immediately opposite.

He rang the bell, and in a moment a rotund and loquacious landlady
appeared. Yes, the drawing-room was to let; would the reverend gentleman
come up and see it? Mr Bunker went up, and approved. They readily agreed