ery Sunday.'

From the manner in which they constantly referred to themselves, it
might have been thought that they were a flock of sheep instead of
being what they really were--a pack of wolves.

When they heard Brother Didlum's announcement a murmur of intense
rapture rose from the ladies, and Mr Starr rolled his eyes and smiled
sweetly. Brother Didlum did not mention the details of the
'arrangement', to have done so at that time would have been most
unseemly, but the following extract from the accounts of the chapel
will not be out of place here: 'Paid to Rev. John Starr for Sunday,
Nov. 14--L4.4.0 per the treasurer.' It was not a large sum considering
the great services rendered by Mr Starr, but, small as it was, it is to
be feared that many worldly, unconverted persons will think it was far
too much to pay for a Few Words, even such wise words as Mr John
Starr's admittedly always were. But the Labourer is worthy of his hire.

After the 'service' was over, most of the children, including Charley
and Frankie, remained to get collecting cards. Mr Starr was surrounded
by a crowd of admirers, and a little later, when he rode away with Mr
Belcher and Mr Sweater in the latter's motor car, the ladies looked
hungrily after that conveyance, listening to the melancholy 'pip, pip'
of its hooter and trying to console themselves with the reflection that
they would see him again in a few hours' time at the evening service.

Chapter 18

The Lodger

In accordance with his arrangement with Hunter, Owen commenced the work
in the drawing-room on the Monday morning. Harlow and Easton were
distempering some of the ceilings, and about ten o'clock they went down
to the scullery to get some more whitewash. Crass was there as usual,
pretending to be very busy mixing colours.

'Well, wot do you think of it?' he said as he served them with what
they required.

'Think of what?' asked Easton.

'Why, hour speshul hartist,' replied Crass with a sneer. 'Do you think
'e's goin' to get through with it?'

'Shouldn't like to say,' replied Easton guardedly.

'You know it's one thing to draw on a bit of paper and colour it with a
penny box of paints, and quite another thing to do it on a wall or
ceiling,' continued Crass. 'Ain't it?'

'Yes; that's true enough,' said Harlow.

'Do you believe they're 'is own designs?' Crass went on.

'Be rather 'ard to tell,' remarked Easton, embarrassed.

Neither Harlow nor Easton shared C