Holy Communion last Sunday. His
Lordship is a charming man. I'm sure you would like to meet him. Come
up and take dinner with us at noon. He leaves on the three o'clock
train. Better be at the rectory at eleven thirty.
Sincerely,
Donald Murray."

CHAPTER VII

BITTER BREAD

When Mark arrived at the church, which stood quite close to the little
rectory, he heard the choir singing the _Veni Creator_, and remembered
enough of former visits to church services to know that the sermon was
about to begin. Early for dinner, he decided to pass the time
listening to what the Bishop might have to say. There were no vacant
seats near the door of the church, so he had to go quite close to the
sanctuary before he found a place. Only two seats ahead of him was the
group of twenty little girls about to be confirmed, and directly across
the aisle from them were fifteen little boys.

Mark had vivid recollections of the day of his own First Communion, but
he had never been confirmed. Things looked just as they did on the day
he so well remembered. The girls were dressed in white, and each small
head was covered by a veil which fell in soft long folds to the bottom
of the short skirts. The boys were in black, each with a white ribbon
around his right arm. These boys all had serious faces, and had
evidently been prepared well for the reception of the Sacrament. Mark
found himself wondering how the pastor could possibly have succeeded in
taming some of the lads, in whom he recognized certain mischievous
youngsters he had seen about the hotel; but tamed they certainly were.

Mark had scarcely sat down before the Bishop turned to the congregation
and began to speak. His words were addressed entirely to the children.
He told them in simple language, which Mark found himself admiring, the
meaning and importance of the ceremony, sketching the apostolic origin
of Confirmation, and dwelling upon its strengthening spiritual effects.

The Bishop was young, too young, Mark thought, since he was not yet
forty. His hair was still black, and his cheeks ruddy. He was quite a
contrast to Father Murray who sat near by. Mark noticed that the
pastor did not wear the manteletta of a prelate, but only the surplice
of a simple priest. There were two other priests in the sanctuary,
both young, one probably the Bishop's secretary.

The Bishop allowed his gaze to wander over the congregation as he spoke
with a rich, clear voice