r from
expecting. "Why, Willis," he said, "it is not true, then, after all,
what we heard, that you were somewhat dubious, shaky, in your adherence
to Romanism? I'm sure I beg your pardon; I would not for the world have
annoyed you, had I known the truth."

Willis's face still glowed, and he looked as youthful and radiant as he
had been two years before. There was nothing ungentle in his
impetuosity; a smile, almost a laugh, was on his face, as if he was
half ashamed of his own warmth; but this took nothing from its evident
sincerity. He seized Bateman's two hands, before the latter knew where
he was, lifted him up out of his seat, and, raising his own mouth close
to his ear, said, in a low voice, "I would to God, that not only thou,
but also all who hear me this day, were both in little and in much such
as I am, except these chains." Then, reminding him it had grown late,
and bidding him good-night, he left the room with Charles.

Bateman remained a while with his back to the fire after the door had
closed; presently he began to give expression to his thoughts. "Well,"
he said, "he's a brick, a regular brick; he has almost affected me
myself. What a way those fellows have with them! I declare his touch has
made my heart beat; how catching enthusiasm is! Any one but I might
really have been unsettled. He _is_ a real good fellow; what a pity we
have not got him! he's just the sort of man we want. He'd make a
splendid Anglican; he'd convert half the Dissenters in the country.
Well, we shall have them in time; we must not be impatient. But the idea
of his talking of converting _me_! 'in little and in much,' as he worded
it! By-the-bye, what did he mean by 'except these chains'?" He sat
ruminating on the difficulty; at first he was inclined to think that,
after all, he might have some misgiving about his position; then he
thought that perhaps he had a hair-shirt or a _catenella_ on him; and
lastly, he came to the conclusion that he had just meant nothing at all,
and did but finish the quotation he had begun.

After passing some little time in this state, he looked towards the
tea-tray; poured himself out another cup of tea; ate a bit of toast;
took the coals off the fire; blew out one of the candles, and, taking up
the other, left the parlour and wound like an omnibus up the steep
twisting staircase to his bedroom.

Meanwhile Willis and Charles were proceeding to their respective homes.
For a while they had to pursue th