e to the parish church,
but which had acquired with the growth of a poor population on the
outskirts of the town an independent parochial status of its own. The
Reverend Arnold Shuter, who was the first vicar, was at first glance
just a nervous bearded man, though Mark soon discovered that he
possessed a great deal of spiritual force. He was a widower and lived in
the care of a housekeeper who regarded religion as the curse of good
cooking. Latterly he had suffered from acute neurasthenia, and three or
four of his wealthier parishioners--they were only relatively
wealthy--had clubbed together to guarantee the stipend of a curate. Mark
was to live at the Vicarage, a detached villa, with pointed windows and
a front door like a lychgate, which gave the impression of having been
built with what material was left over from building the church.

"You may think that there is not much to do in Galton," said Mr. Shuter
when he and Mark were sitting in his study after a round of the parish.

"I hope I didn't suggest that," Mark said quickly.

The Vicar tugged nervously at his beard and blinked at his prospective
curate from pale blue eyes.

"You seem so full of life and energy," he went on, half to himself, as
though he were wondering if the company of this tall, bright-eyed,
hatchet-faced young man might not prove too bracing for his worn-out
nerves.

"Indeed I'm glad I do strike you that way," Mark laughed. "After
dreaming at Silchester I'd begun to wonder if I hadn't grown rather too
much into a type of that sedate and sleepy city."

"But there is plenty of work," Mr. Shuter insisted. "We have the
hop-pickers at the end of the summer, and I've tried to run a mission
for them. Out in the hop-gardens, you know. And then there's Oaktown."

"Oaktown?" Mark echoed.

"Yes. A queer collection of people who have settled on a derelict farm
that was bought up and sold in small plots by a land-speculator. They'll
give plenty of scope for your activity. By the way, I hope you're not
too extreme. We have to go very slowly here. I manage an early Eucharist
every Sunday and Thursday, and of course on Saints' days; but the
attendance is not good. We have vestments during the week, but not at
the mid-day Celebration."

Mark had not intended to attach himself to what he considered a too
indefinite Catholicism; but inasmuch as the Bishop had found him this
job he made up his mind to give to it at any rate his deacon's year and
his fir