over fond of
running away with me, when I am with friends."

Evensong at St. Frideswyde's was always a well-attended service.
Although it was now the chapel of Cardinal College, the old name
still clung to it. The cardinal had removed much of the former
priory and chapel of St. Frideswyde to carry out the plans for his
college; but though the collegiate buildings were called by his
name, the chapel generally retained its older and more familiar
title. The daily services were better performed there than in any
other college chapel; and many men, like Dalaber himself, possessed
of good voices, sang in the choir as often as their other duties
permitted them.

Service over, the two friends passed out together, and waited for
Clarke, who came quietly forth, his face alight with the shining of
the Spirit, which was so noticeable in him after any religious
exercise.

He greeted them both in brotherly fashion, and gladly welcomed them
to his lodging.

There was something very characteristic of the man in the big, bare
room he inhabited. It was spotlessly clean--more clean than any
servant would keep it, though the canons of Cardinal College were
permitted a certain amount of service from paid menials. The scanty
furniture was of the plainest. There was nothing on the floor to
cover the bare boards. Two shelves of books displayed his most
precious possessions; the rest of his household goods were ranged
in a small cupboard in a recess. His bed was a pallet, covered by
one blanket. There was no fire burning on his hearth. Several
benches ranged along the walls, and a rather large table, upon
which a number of books and papers lay, stood in the middle of the
room. One corner had been partitioned off, and was very plainly
fitted up as an oratory. A beautiful crucifix in ivory was the only
object of value in all the room.

Arthur and Anthony both knew the place well, but neither entered it
without a renewed sensation impossible to define.

"It is the abode of peace and of prayer," Dalaber had once said to
Freda, describing the lodging to her. "You seem to feel it and to
breathe it in the very air. However worn and anxious, fretful or
irate, you are when you enter, a hush of peace descends upon your
spirit, like the soft fluttering of the wings of a dove. Your
burden falls away; you know not how. You go forth refreshed and
strengthened in the inner man. Your darkness of spirit is flooded
by a great light."

They sat down