and see."

They made a lengthy pilgrimage, and finally Peter arrested her. "Here's
one," he said.

A Georgian Bishop in bas-relief looked down on them, fat and comfortable.
In front of him was a monstrous cup, and a plate piled with biggish
squares of stone. Julie did not realise what it was. "What's he doing
with all that lump-sugar?" she demanded.

Peter was really a bit horrified. "You're an appalling pagan," he said.
"Come away!" And they came.

They roamed along the Embankment. Julie was as curious as a child, and
wanted to know all about everything, from Boadicea, Cleopatra's Needle,
and the Temple Church, to Dewar's Whisky Works and the Hotel Cecil.
Thereabouts, Julie asked the name of the squat tower and old red-brick
buildings opposite, and when she heard it was Lambeth Palace instantly
demanded to visit it. Peter was doubtful if they could, but they crossed
to see, and they were shown a good deal by the courtesy of the
authorities. The Archbishop was away, to Peter's great relief, for as
likely as not Julie would have insisted on an introduction, but they
saw the chapel and the dining-hall amongst other things. The long line
of portraits fascinated her, but not as it fascinated Peter. The
significance of the change in the costumes of the portraits struck
him for the first time--first the cope and mitre and cross, then the
skull-cap and the tippet, then the balloon-sleeves and the wig, then the
coat and breeches and white cravat, then the academic robes, and then a
purple cassock. Its interest to Julie was other, however. "Peter," she
whispered, "perhaps you'll be there one day."

He looked at her sharply, but she was not mocking him, and, marvelling at
her simplicity and honest innocence, he relaxed into a smile. "Not very
likely, my dear," he said. "In other days a pleasant underground cell in
the Lollards' Tower would have been more likely."

Then, of course, Julie must see the famous tower, and see a little of it
they did. She wanted to know what Lollardy was; their guide attempted an
explanation. Julie was soon bored. "I can't see why people make such a
bother about such things," she said. "A man's religion is his own
business, surely, and he must settle it for himself. Don't you think so,
Peter?"

"Is it his own business only?" he asked gravely.

"Whose else should it be?" she demanded.

"God's," said Peter simply.

Julie stared at him and sighed. "You're very odd, Peter," she said, "but
you