"

"Rather," said Michael as enthusiastically as his full mouth would allow
him to declare.

"Of course, it's the only logical political attitude for an English
Catholic to adopt," said Mr. Prout. "All this Erastianism--you know.
Terrible. What's the Privy Council got to do with Vestments? Still the
Episcopal appointments haven't been so bad lately. That's Lord
Salisbury. Of course, we've had trouble with our Bishop. Oh, yes. He
simply declines to listen to reason on the subject of Reservation for
the Sick. Personally I advised Father Moneypenny not to pay any
attention to him. I said the Guild of St. Wilfrid--that's our servers'
guild, you know--was absolutely in favour of defiance, open defiance.
But one of the churchwardens got round him. There's your Established
Church. Money's what churchwardens think of--simply money. And has
religion got anything to do with money? Nothing. 'Blessed are the poor.'
You can't go against that, as I told Major Wilton--that's our people's
warden--in the sacristy. He's a client of ours at the Bank, or I should
have said a jolly sight more. I should have told him that in my opinion
his attitude was simony--rank simony, and let it go at that. But I
couldn't very well, and, of course, it doesn't look well for the
Ceremonarius and the churchwarden to be bickering after Mass. By the
way, will you help us next Sunday?"

"I'd like to," said Michael, "but I don't know anything about it."

"There'll be a rehearsal," said Mr. Prout. "And it's perfectly simple.
You elevate your torch first of all at the Sanctus and then at the
Consecration. And now, if you've finished your tea, I'll show you my
oratory. Of course, you'll understand that I'm only in rooms here, but
the landlady is a very pleasant woman. She let me plant that
passion-flower in the garden. Perhaps you noticed it? The same with this
oratory. It _was_ a housemaid's cupboard, but it was very
inconvenient--and there isn't a housemaid as a matter of fact--so I
secured it. Come along."

Mr. Prout led the way on to the landing, at the end of which were two
doors.

"We can't both kneel down, unless the door's open," said Mr. Prout. "But
when I'm alone, I can _just_ shut myself in."

He opened the oratory door as he spoke, and Michael was impressed by the
appearance of it. The small window had been covered with a rice-paper
design of Jesse's Rod.

"It's a bit 'Protty,'" whispered Mr. Prout. "But I thought it was better
than plain s