a police official to take instant notice
of the fact and visit the spot for an inquiry."

"It can wait till Monday morning--or, you can send your Inspector," said
Honor.

"I have a poisonous report to write"--began Jack.

"No sulking!" said Honor with determination. "You have to set a good
example, both of you."

"I don't mind the service, a bit, and the hymns are fine," said Tommy,
"but I distinctly object to sitting still and having illogical arguments
when I cannot answer back hurled at my head."

"I shouldn't mind even that, for I needn't listen to them," said Jack;
"but I do wish he would cut his sermons short. The last time he was at
it for half an hour till I fell asleep and all but swallowed a fly."

"You and Tommy are worse than heathens and want a Mission all to
yourselves," said Honor with twitching lips. (When Honor's lips revealed
a hidden sense of humour, the boys' spirits effervesced.) "There is
hymn-practice at three this afternoon at the Institute," she informed
them. "Shall we have _Abide with me_, for a change?"

"'Abide with you,' certainly," said Tommy bubbling, while Jack put in a
plea for one of the old favourites. "_Sun of my soul_ is hard to beat,"
he said.

"Jack has a fixed belief that the world has missed a great tenor in
him," remarked Tommy. "He was bawling so loudly in his bath yesterday
morning, that I was on the point of fetching my gun thinking there was a
jackal around,--fact!"

"Liar! I was singing _O Star of Eve_, and you annoyed me by joining in.
Execrable taste."

"Well?--we shall count on both of you for the choir."

"If any one will be so kind as to lend me a prayer-book," said Tommy
reluctantly. "Jack used mine on a muggy night to keep the window open,
and as it rained half the time, my property was reduced to pulp. The
least he might do is to give me another."

"You can share mine," said Honor magnanimously. "That's fixed."

"Thanks, awfully. I love sharing a prayer-book with someone who knows
the geography of it. The last time I went to church was at Hazrigunge
when the Commissioner's Memsahib collared me as I was going to bridge.
Miss Elworthy, the parson's sister,--elderly and still hopeful, handed
me her book of Common Prayer; but I'm dashed if I could find the
Collect! At any ordinary time I would have pounced upon it right enough,
but knowing her eyes were upon me, I could do nothing but make a
windmill of the pages with only the 'Solemnisation of Matrimon