he beautiful things, which He inspires us to create with
brain and hand, from use in His holy temple? 'Out of the fulness of the
heart the mouth speaketh,' and out of the fulness of the hand the giver
should give. 'Date et dabitur!' The great Luther was right in applying
this saying to the church.

One of the congregation at St Wulf's on this particular morning was
Captain George Pendle, and he came less for the service than in the
hope--after the manner of those in love--of meeting with Mab Arden.
During the reading of the lessons his eyes were roving here and there in
search of that beloved face, but much to his dismay he could not see it.
Finally, on a chair near a pillar, he caught sight of Miss Whichello in
her poke bonnet and black silk cloak, but she was alone, and there were
no bright eyes beside her to send a glance in the direction of George.
Having ascertained beyond all doubt that Mab was not in the church, and
believing that she was unwell after the shock of Jentham's attack on the
previous night, George withdrew his attention from the congregation, and
settled himself to listen attentively to the anthem. It was worthy of
the cathedral, and higher praise cannot be given. 'I have blotted out as
a thick cloud,' sang the boy soloist in a clear sweet treble, 'I have
blotted out thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins.' Then came the
triumphant cry of the choir, borne on the rich waves of sound rolling
from the organ, 'Return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.' The lofty
roof reverberated with the melodious thunder, and the silvery altoes
pierced through the great volume of sound like arrows of song. 'Return!
Return! Return!' called the choristers louder and higher and clearer,
and ended, with a magnificent burst of harmony, with the sublime
proclamation, 'The Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in
Israel!' When the white-robed singers resumed their seats, the organ
still continued to peal forth triumphant notes, which died away in
gentle murmurs. It was like the passing by of a tempest; the stilling of
the ocean after a storm.

Mr Cargrim preached the sermon, and, with a vivid recollection of his
present enterprise, waxed eloquent on the ominous text, 'Be sure thy sin
will find thee out.' His belief that the bishop was guilty of some
crime, for the concealment of which he intended to bribe Jentham, had
been strengthened by an examination on that very morning of the
cheque-book. Dr Pendle had de