le man who had led the
procession of late-comers.

"A dog in this hallowed place," he said, pointing at the deeply
disconcerted Rupert who was weaving himself nervously in and out of his
master's legs. "Never in all the forty years of my ministration here
have I allowed such an outrage----"

"Gently, gently, my dear sir," protested the Vicar, a little roused. "I
am the minister of this church, and the dog is mine. I was indeed about
to turn it out when you entered, after which I lost sight of it for a
moment. Rupert, go home."

Rupert howled again, and lay down as if about to faint.

"Forty years have I been Vicar of this parish," said the veteran, "and
never----"

"What?" interrupted the Vicar, "Forty years Vicar of this parish. Then
you must be Canon Burstley-Ripp. How very extraordinary, I always
understood that he passed away quite ten years ago."

He approached the old man and strove to button-hole him. The sheet at
first foiled him in this intention, but he presently contented himself
with seizing a little corner of it, by which he led his aged brother
vicar into a corner. There they could be heard for some time
misunderstanding each other in low earnest tones.

"Ow, what a wicked ol' woman I bin an' bin," suddenly burst forth again
the repentant knitter. "I bin an' stole 'arf a pound o' sugar off of the
Eelite 'Atshop where I does a bit o' cleanin'. Ef I get out o' this
alive, I swear I'll repay it an 'undredfold--that is ef I can get that
much awf me sugar card...."

Sarah Brown was becoming sleepy. A blankness was invading her mind, and
the talk in the crypt seemed to lose its meaning, and to consist chiefly
of S's. She pondered idly on the family of children with their elders,
all of whom were now studying each other with a certain look of
disillusionment. It was a group whose relationships were difficult to
make out, the ages of many of the children being unnaturally
approximate. There seemed to be at least seven children under three
years old, and yet they all bore a strong and regrettable family
likeness. Several of the babies would hardly have been given credit for
having reached walking age, yet none had been carried in. The woman who
seemed to imagine herself the mother of this rabble was distributing
what looked like hurried final words of advice. The father with a
pensive eye was obviously trying to remember their names, and at
intervals whispering to a man apparently twenty years his senior,