rriages. Evidently Mr.
Harding had attractive powers, and Malling began to wonder whether he
would have any difficulty in obtaining the seat he wanted, in some corner
from which he could get a good view both of the chancel and the pulpit.
Were vergers "bribable"? What an ignoramus he was about church matters!

He smiled to himself as he paid the cabman and joined the stream of
church-goers which was passing in through the open door.

Just as he was entering the building someone in the crowd by accident
jostled him, and he was pushed rather roughly against a tall lady
immediately before him. She turned round with a startled face, and
Malling hastily begged her pardon.

"I was pushed," he said. "Forgive me."

The lady smiled, her lips moved, doubtless in some words of conventional
acceptance, then she disappeared in the throng, taking her way toward
the left of the church. She was a slim woman, with a white streak in her
dark hair just above the forehead. Her face, which was refined and
handsome, had given to Malling a strong impression of anxiety. Even when
it had smiled it had looked almost tragically anxious, he thought. The
church was seated with chairs, and a man, evidently an attendant, told
him that all the chairs in the right and left aisles were free. He made
his way to the right, and was fortunate enough to get one not far from
the pulpit. Unluckily, from it he could only see the left-hand side of
the choir. But the preacher would be full in his view. The organ sounded;
the procession appeared. Over the heads of worshipers--he was a tall
man--Malling perceived both Mr. Harding and Chichester. The latter took
his place at the end of the left-hand row of light-colored oaken stalls
next to the congregation. Malling could see him well. But the rector was
hidden from him. He fixed his eyes upon Chichester.

The service went on its way. The music was excellent. A fair young man,
who looked as if he might be a first-rate cricketer, one of the curates
no doubt, read the lessons. Chichester intoned with an agreeable light
tenor voice. During the third hymn, "Fight the Good Fight," Mr. Harding
mounted into the pulpit. He let down the brass reading-desk. He had no
notes in his hands. Evidently he was going to preach extempore. After
the "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost"
had been pronounced, Malling settled himself to listen. He felt tensely
interested. Both Mr. Harding and Chichester we