reak the bread into fragments whilst talking.]

MANSON. Early this morning, sir. I should have come sooner; but I
had a little trouble down at the Customs.

VICAR. Indeed! How was that?

MANSON. They said something about the new Alien Act, sir.

VICAR. Of course, of course. Er . . . You speak English
remarkably well.

MANSON. I have seen a good deal of the English, one time and
another.

VICAR. That's good: it will save a lot of explanation. By-the-bye
. . .

My old friend in Brindisi, who recommended you, writes that you
bore a very excellent character with your late employer in India;
but there was one matter he didn't mention-- No doubt you will
recognise its importance in a clergyman's family-- He never
mentioned your religion.

MANSON. I can soon remedy that, sir. My religion is very simple.
I love God and all my brothers.

VICAR [after a pause]. God and your brothers . . .

MANSON. Yes, sir: _all_ of them.

[The VICAR stands thoughtful for a moment. He places the paten on
the table, beside him.]

VICAR [slowly]. That is not always so easy, Manson; but it is my
creed, too.

MANSON. Then-- Brother!

[Rapt in thought, the VICAR takes his profferred hand mechanically.]

[MARY enters. She is a slim young girl in her teens, the picture
of rosy sweetness and health.]

MARY. Good-morning, Uncle William! Oh! . . . I suppose you're
Manson? I must say you look simply ripping! How do you do? My
name's Mary. [She offers her hand.]

MANSON [kissing it]. A very dear name, too!

MARY [embarrassed, blurting]. We were wondering last night about
your religion. I said . . .

VICAR. Mary, my child . . .

MARY. You don't _look_ like a cannibal. After all, even the devil
isn't as black as he's . . . Oh, I beg your pardon: perhaps I'm
rude.

VICAR. Yes, indeed you are. Don't take any notice of our little
feather-brain, Manson.

MARY. I say, has uncle told you who's coming to-day?

MANSON. No.

MARY. Not about Uncle Josh?

VICAR. T-t-t! You mustn't call your uncle Joshua that! It is
irreverent. He may resent it.

MARY. You know, _you'll_ make me positively dislike him! Just
fancy, Manson, meeting an uncle whom you've never so much as set
eyes on before! I don't even know what he looks like.

[She is looking MANSON in the face. He returns her gaze curiously.]

MANSON. Then--you have a surprise in store.

MARY. _You_ ought to be awfully interested!