ushing crumbs from the beard.

"Father wants the proof of some hymn-paper--I don't know what," he said.
"I was just coming--"

"So was I, Mister Edwin," replied Big James in his magnificent voice,
and with his curious humorous smile. And he held up a sheet of paper in
his immense hand, and strode majestically on towards the shop.

Here was another detail that struck the boy. Always Big James had
addressed him as `Master Edwin' or `Master Clayhanger.' Now it was
`Mister.' He had left school. Big James was, of course, aware of that,
and Big James had enough finesse and enough gentle malice to change
instantly the `master' to `mister.' Edwin was scarcely sure if Big
James was not laughing at him. He could not help thinking that Big
James had begun so promptly to call him `mister' because the foreman
compositor expected that the son of the house would at once begin to
take a share in the business. He could not help thinking that his
father must have so informed Big James. And all this vaguely disturbed
Edwin, and reminded him of his impending battle and of the complex
forces marshalled against him. And his hand, wandering in his pockets,
touched that unfortunate report which stated that he had lost one place
during the term.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

SIX.

He lingered in the blue-paved yard, across which cloud-shadows swept
continually, and then Big James came back and spectacularly ascended the
flight of wooden steps to the printing office, and disappeared. Edwin
knew that he must return to the shop to remove his bag, for his father
would assuredly reprimand him if he found it where it had been untidily
left. He sidled, just like an animal, to the doorway, and then slipped
up to the counter, behind the great mahogany case of `artists'
materials.' His father and the old man were within the shop now, and
Edwin overheard that they were discussing a topic that had lately been
rife in religious circles, namely, Sir Henry Thompson's ingenious device
for scientifically testing the efficacy of prayer, known as the `Prayer
Gauge.' The scheme was to take certain hospitals and to pray for the
patients in particular wards, leaving other wards unprayed for, and then
to tabulate and issue the results.

Mr Shushions profoundly resented the employment of such a dodge; the
mere idea of it shocked him, as being blasphemous; and Darius Clayhanger
deferentially and feeling