eeting me with some surprise,
and introducing his wife, a rather stout, homely woman, who bore
traces of good looks, and who wore a visiting gown of neat black, for
she had been paying a call.

"I looked in to see you the other day in town, Mr. Biddulph," he said.
"But I was unfortunate. Your man told me you were out. He was not rude
to me this time," he added humorously, with a laugh.

"No," I said, smiling. "He was profuse in his apologies. Old servants
are sometimes a little trying."

"Yes, you're right. But he seems a good sort. I blame myself, you
know. He's not to blame in the least."

Then we strolled together to a tent set beneath the cedar, whither the
maid had already taken the tea and strawberries, and there we sat
around gossiping.

Afterwards, when Shuttleworth rose, he said--

"Come across to my study and have a smoke. You're not in a great hurry
to get back to town. Perhaps you'll play a game of tennis presently?"

I followed him through the pretty pergola of roses, back into the
house, and when I had seated myself in the big old arm-chair, he gave
me an excellent cigar.

"Do you know, Mr. Biddulph," he said after we had been smoking some
minutes, "I'm extremely glad to have this opportunity of a chat with
you. I called at Wilton Street, because I wished to see you."

"Why?" I asked.

"Well, for several reasons," was his slow, earnest reply. His face
looked thinner, more serious. Somehow I had taken a great fancy to
him, for though a clergyman, he struck me as a broad-minded man of the
world. He was keen-eyed, thoughtful and earnest, yet at the same time
full of that genuine, hearty bonhomie so seldom, alas! found in
religious men. The good fellowship of a leader appeals to men more
than anything else, and yet somehow it seems always more apparent in
the Roman Catholic priest than in the Protestant clergyman.

"The reason I called to-day was because I thought you might wish to
speak to me," I said.

He rose and closed the French windows. Then, re-seating himself, he
removed his old briar pipe from his lips, and, bending towards me in
his chair, said very earnestly--

"I wonder whether I might presume to say something to you strictly in
private, Mr. Biddulph? I know that I ought not to interfere in your
private affairs--yet, as a minister of religion, I perhaps am a
slightly privileged person in that respect. At least you will, I
trust, believe in my impartiality."

"Most certainly I do,