llarton was
laboring under a slight delusion in believing (which he did sincerely)
that only a pure and disinterested zeal for the welfare of his flock
impelled him to say, "I shall make it my business to inquire more fully
into Major Keene's antecedents. I am convinced there is something
discreditable in the background, and it may be well to be armed with
proofs in case of need."

Though _he_ may have deceived himself completely as to the nature of the
spirit that possessed him, Cecil Tresilyan was more clear-sighted. She
had not failed to remark a certain vicious twinkle in the speaker's eye
and a deeper flush on his ruddy countenance, betokening rather a mundane
resentment. Her lip began to curl.

"How very disagreeable some of your duties must be. No doubt you
interpret them correctly, but in this case perhaps it would be well to
be _quite_ sure before acting on the offensive. If I were a man--even a
clergyman--I don't think I should like to have Major Keene for my
declared enemy."

The text with which the chaplain enforced his reply--expressive of a
determination to keep his own line at all hazards, strong in the
rectitude of his cause--had better not be quoted here, especially as it
was not apposite enough to "lay" the contradictory spirit that was alive
in his fair opponent. (How very angry Cecil would have been if she had
been told ten minutes ago that such an expression would apply to her!)
The temptation to answer sharply was so powerful that she took refuge in
distant coldness.

"You quite misunderstand me, Mr. Fullarton. I never dreamed of offering
advice; it would have been excessively presumptuous in me, especially as
I have not the faintest interest in the subject we have been talking
about. Need we discuss it any longer? I think Major Keene has been too
highly honored already."

That weary look was so manifest now on the beautiful face that even the
chaplain, albeit tenacious of his position as a sea-anemone, felt that,
for once, he had overstaid his time and was periling his popularity. So,
after an expansive benediction, and an entreaty that they would be early
at church on the morrow, he went "to his own place."

With a sigh of admiration--"What an excellent man, and how well he
talks!" said Bessie Danvers.

With a sigh of relief--"He talks a great deal, and it is very late,"
said Cecil Tresilyan.

CHAPTER IX.

From his "coign of vantage" in the reading-desk the next morning, Mr.