lateful of sausages
had mysteriously disappeared; and, as they entered, Excalibur was
apologetically settling down on the hearthrug with a cottage loaf
between his paws.

Eileen uttered cries of dismay and apology, but the curate would have
none of them.

"My fault entirely!" he insisted. "I have no right to be breakfasting at
this hour; but this is my day off. You see I take early Service every
morning at seven; but on Wednesdays we cut it out--omit it and have
full Matins at ten. So I get up at half-past nine, take Service at ten,
and come back to my rooms at eleven and have breakfast. It is my weekly
treat."

"You deserve it," said Eileen feelingly. Her religious exercises were
limited to going to church on Sunday morning and coming out, if
possible, after the Litany. "And how do you like Much Moreham?"

"I did not like it at all when I came," said the curate, "but recently I
have begun to enjoy myself immensely." He did not say how recently.

"Were you in London before?"

"Yes--in the East End. It was pretty hard work, but a useful experience.
I feel rather lost here during my spare time. I get so little exercise.
In London I used to slip away for an occasional outing in a Leander
scratch eight, and that kept me fit. I am inclined," he added ruefully,
"to put on flesh."

"Leander? Are you a Blue?"

The curate nodded.

"You know about rowing, I see," he said appreciatively. "The worst of
rowing," he continued, "is that it takes up so much of a man's time that
he has no opportunity of practicing anything else--cricket, for
instance. All curates ought to be able to play cricket. I do my best;
but there isn't a single boy in the Sunday School who can't bowl me.
It's humiliating!"

"Do you play tennis at all?" asked Eileen.

"Yes, in a way."

"I am sure my sister will be pleased if you come and have a game with us
some afternoon."

The enraptured curate had already opened his mouth to accept this demure
invitation when Excalibur, rising from the hearthrug, stretched himself
luxuriously and wagged his tail, thereby removing three pipes, an
inkstand, a tobacco jar, and a half-completed sermon from the writing
table.

V

EXCALIBUR was heavily overworked in his new role of chaperon during
the next three or four weeks, and any dog less ready to oblige than
himself might have felt a little aggrieved at the treatment to which he
was subjected.

There was the case of the tennis lawn, for instance.