bode from an instinctive
disinclination to obtrude the abundance and comfort which he had derived
from the manufacture and sale of beer; perhaps he had bought this
particular house simply because it was in itself such a dwelling as he
desired. At any rate, there he was, with his abundance and luxury, within
his encircling wall; and one was tempted to wonder whether there was as
much mystery in connection with the article of his manufacture, as seemed
to be associated with his place of abode.

The minister let himself in at a small door in the boundary wall, and made
his way, through the grounds, to the front-door of the house.

"Mr. Caske has company to-night, sir," said the maid who opened the door.

"Any one I know, Mary?"

"Yes, sir; Mr. Botterill and Mr. Kershaw."

"Oh, well, I want to see them too. Where are they?"

"In the smoke-room, sir."

"Well, show me in. It will be all right."

As Mr. Durnford was a frequent and privileged visitor, the girl promptly
complied with his request.

The smoke-room was a good-sized, comfortable apartment, furnished with
every convenience that smokers are supposed to require. It looked out, by
two long windows, on a wide sweep of lawn which stretched away from the
end of the house. In this room, in chairs of various luxurious styles, sat
Mr. Caske and his two friends. Each of the three men was smoking a
churchwarden pipe; and at the elbow of each stood a little three-legged,
japanned smoker's table, on which was a stand of matches, an ash-tray,
and a glass of whisky.

The three smokers slowly turned their heads, as the minister entered the
room, and, on recognising him, they all rose to their feet.

"Good evening, sir," said Mr. Caske, advancing, with his pipe in his left
hand, and his right hand stretched out; "you have surprised us at our
devotions again."

"Which you are performing," rejoined the minister, "with an earnestness
worthy of a nobler object of worship."

Mr. Caske laughed huskily; and the minister turned to greet Messrs.
Botterill and Kershaw, who were waiting, pipes in hand, to resume their
seats.

Mr. Botterill was a wine and spirit merchant, and Mr. Kershaw was a draper
in a large way.

When they had all taken their seats, a few moments of silence ensued. This
was occasioned by the necessity which arose for the three smokers
vigorously to puff their pipes, which had burnt low; and perhaps there
was some little reluctance, on the part of Mr. Caske