m to me. I've
been here a month now, so they ought to be used to me by this time.

We've just heard that the guest-house for soldiers at the Abbey
will be finished by the middle of next month, so we're already
discussing our Christmas party. The Priory, which sounds so grand
and gothic, is really the corner house of a most depressing row of
suburban villas, called Glenview and that sort of thing. The last
tenant was a traveller in tea and had a stable instead of the usual
back-garden. This we have converted into a billiard room. An
officer in one of the regiments quartered here told us that it was
the only thing in Aldershot we had converted. The authorities
aren't very fond of us. They say we encourage the men to grumble
and give them too great idea of their own importance. Brother
Anselm asked a general once with whom we fell out if it was
possible to give a man whose profession it was to defend his
country too great an idea of his own importance. The general merely
blew out his cheeks and looked choleric. He had no suspicion that
he had been scored off. We don't push too much religion into the
men at present. We've taught them to respect the Crucifix on the
wall in the dining-room, and sometimes they attend Vespers. But
they're still rather afraid of chaff, such as being called the
Salvation Army by their comrades. Well, here's an end to this long
letter, for I must write now to Brother Jerome, whose name-day it
is to-morrow. Love to all at the Rectory.

Your ever affectionate

Mark.

Mark remained at Aldershot until the week before Christmas, when with a
party of Tommies he went back to the Abbey. He found that Brother Chad's
convalescence had been seriously impeded in its later stages by the
prospect of having to remain at the Abbey as guest-master, and though
Mark was sorry to leave Aldershot he saw by the way the Tommies greeted
their old friend that he was dear to their hearts. When after Christmas
Brother Chad took the party back, Mark made up his mind that the right
person was going.

Mark found many changes at the Abbey during the four months he had been
away. The greatest of all was the presence of Brother George as Prior.
The legend of him had led Mark to expect someone out of the ordinary;
but he had not been prepared for a personality as strong as this.
Brother George was six