he gentlemen to come in,' said Merton, when the boy returned.

They entered: three fair young curates, nervous and inclined to giggle.
Shades of difference of ecclesiastical opinion declared themselves in
their hats, costume, and jewellery.

'Be seated, gentlemen,' said Merton, and they sat down on three chairs,
in identical attitudes.

'We hope,' said the man on the left, 'that we are not here
inconveniently. We would have waited, but, you see, we have all come up
for the match.'

'How is it going?' asked Merton anxiously.

'Cambridge four wickets down for 115, but--' and the young man stared,
'it must be, it is Pussy Merton!'

'And you, Clancy Minor, why are you not converting the Heathen Chinee?
You deserve a death of torture.'

'Goodness! How do you know that?' asked Clancy.

'I know many things,' answered Merton. 'I am not sure which of you is
Mr. Bathe.'

Clancy presented Mr. Bathe, a florid young evangelist, who blushed.

'Armenia is still suffering, Mr. Bathe; and Mr. Brooke,' said Merton,
detecting him by the Method of Residues, 'the oven is still hot in the
New Hebrides. What have you got to say for yourselves?'

The curates shifted nervously on their chairs.

'We see, Merton,' said Clancy, 'that you know a good deal which we did
not know ourselves till lately. In fact, we did not know each other till
the Church Congress at Leamington. Then the other men came to tea at my
rooms, and saw--'

'A portrait of a lady; each of you possessed a similar portrait,' said
Merton.

'How the dev--I mean, how do you know _that_?'

'By a simple deductive process,' said Merton. 'There were also letters,'
he said. Here a gurgle from behind the screen was audible to Merton.

'We did not read each others' letters,' said Clancy, blushing.

'Of course not,' said Merton.

'But the handwriting on the envelopes was identical,' Clancy went on.

'Well, and what can our Society do for you?'

'Why, we saw your advertisements, never guessed they were _yours_, of
course, Pussy, and--none of us is a man of the world--'

'I congratulate you,' said Merton.

'So we thought we had better take advice: it seemed rather a lark, too,
don't you know? The fact is--you appear to have divined it somehow--we
find that we are all engaged to the same lady. We can't fight, and we
can't all marry her.'

'In Thibet it might be practicable: martyrdom might also be secured
there,' said Merton.

'Martyrdom is not good eno