tter of course, and noted that the
ever receding tide of Evangelicalism had ebbed many a stage lower, even
during the few years of his absence. His father used to walk to the
church through the Rectory garden, and across a small intervening field.
He had been used to walk in a tall hat, his Master's gown, and wearing a
pair of Geneva bands. Ernest noticed that the bands were worn no longer,
and lo! greater marvel still, Theobald did not preach in his Master's
gown, but in a surplice. The whole character of the service was changed;
you could not say it was high even now, for high-church Theobald could
never under any circumstances become, but the old easy-going
slovenliness, if I may say so, was gone for ever. The orchestral
accompaniments to the hymns had disappeared while my hero was yet a boy,
but there had been no chanting for some years after the harmonium had
been introduced. While Ernest was at Cambridge, Charlotte and Christina
had prevailed on Theobald to allow the canticles to be sung; and sung
they were to old-fashioned double chants by Lord Mornington and Dr Dupuis
and others. Theobald did not like it, but he did it, or allowed it to be
done.

Then Christina said: "My dear, do you know, I really think" (Christina
always "really" thought) "that the people like the chanting very much,
and that it will be a means of bringing many to church who have stayed
away hitherto. I was talking about it to Mrs Goodhew and to old Miss
Wright only yesterday, and they _quite_ agreed with me, but they all said
that we ought to chant the 'Glory be to the Father' at the end of each of
the psalms instead of saying it."

Theobald looked black--he felt the waters of chanting rising higher and
higher upon him inch by inch; but he felt also, he knew not why, that he
had better yield than fight. So he ordered the "Glory be to the Father"
to be chanted in future, but he did not like it.

"Really, mamma dear," said Charlotte, when the battle was won, "you
should not call it the 'Glory be to the Father' you should say 'Gloria.'"

"Of course, my dear," said Christina, and she said "Gloria" for ever
after. Then she thought what a wonderfully clever girl Charlotte was,
and how she ought to marry no one lower than a bishop. By-and-by when
Theobald went away for an unusually long holiday one summer, he could
find no one but a rather high-church clergyman to take his duty. This
gentleman was a man of weight in the neighbourhood,