, by an act of sheer
faith, suddenly, miraculously and genuinely regarded it as an
exquisitely beautiful edifice, on a plane with the edifices of the
capitals of Europe, and as a feast for discerning eyes. "I like
architecture very much," he added. And this too was said with such
feverish conviction that Mr Orgreave was quite moved.

"I must show you my new Sytch Chapel," said Mr Orgreave gaily.

"Oh! I should like you to show it me," said Edwin.

But he was exceedingly perturbed by misgivings. Here was he wanting to
be an architect, and he had never observed the Sytch Pottery! Surely
that was an absolute proof that he had no vocation for architecture!
And yet now he did most passionately admire the Sytch Pottery. And he
was proud to be sharing the admiration of the fine, joyous, superior,
luxurious, companionable man, Mr Orgreave.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

FIVE.

They went down the Sytch Bank to the new chapel of which Mr Orgreave,
though a churchman, was the architect, in that vague quarter of the
world between Bursley and Turnhill. The roof was not on; the
scaffolding was extraordinarily interesting and confusing; they bent
their heads to pass under low portals; Edwin had the delicious smell of
new mortar; they stumbled through sand, mud, cinders and little pools;
they climbed a ladder and stepped over a large block of dressed stone,
and Mr Orgreave said--

"This is the gallery we're in, here. You see the scheme of the place
now... That hole--only a flue. Now you see what that arch carries--
they didn't like it in the plans because they thought it might be
mistaken for a church--"

Edwin was receptive.

"Of course it's a very small affair, but it'll cost less per sitting
than any other chapel in your circuit, and I fancy it'll look less like
a box of bricks." Mr Orgreave subtly smiled, and Edwin tried to equal
his subtlety. "I must show you the elevation some other time--a bit
later. What I've been after in it, is to keep it in character with the
street... Hi! Dan, there!" Now, Mr Orgreave was calling across the
hollow of the chapel to a fat man in corduroys. "Have you remembered
about those blue bricks?"

Perhaps the most captivating phenomenon of all was a little lean-to shed
with a real door evidently taken from somewhere else, and a little
stove, and a table and a chair. Here Mr Orgreave had a confabulation
with the corduroyed man, wh