al strength," said Mailing, laconically.

"You think so?"

"Don't you?"

At this moment there was a knock at the door. Mr. Harding started.

"How impossible it is to get a quiet moment," he said with acute
irritation. "Come in!" he called out.

The footman appeared.

"Mr. Chichester has called to see you, sir."

The rector's manner changed. He beckoned to the man to come into the room
and to shut the door. The footman, looking surprised, obeyed.

"Where is he, Thomas?" asked Mr. Harding, in a lowered voice. "In the
hall?"

"No, sir. As you were engaged I showed him up into the drawing-room."

"Oh, very well. Thank you. You can go."

The footman went out, still looking surprised.

Just as he was about to close the door his master said:

"Wait a moment!"

"Sir?"

"Was her ladyship in the drawing-room?"

"No, sir. Her ladyship is lying down in the boudoir."

"Ah. That will do."

The footman shut the door.

Directly he was gone the rector got up with an air of decision.

"Mr. Malling," he said, "perhaps I ought to apologize to you for treating
you with the abruptness allowable in a friend, but surprising in an
acquaintance, indeed in one who is almost a stranger. I do apologize. My
only excuse is that I know you to be a man of exceptional trend of mind
and unusual ability. I know this from Professor Stepton. But there's
another thing. As I told you yesterday, you are the only person of my
acquaintance who, having been fairly intimate with Henry Chichester, has
not seen anything of him during the two years he has been with me as my
coadjutor. Now what I want you to do is this: will you go upstairs and
spend a few minutes alone with Chichester? Tell him I am detained, but
am coming in a moment. I'll see to it that you are not interrupted. I'll
explain to my wife. And, of course, I rely on you to make the matter
appear natural to Chichester, not to rouse his--but I am sure you
understand. Will you do this for me?"

"Certainly," said Malling, with his most prosaic manner. "Why not?"

"Why not? Exactly. There's nothing objectionable in the matter. But--"
Mr. Harding's manner became very earnest, almost tragic. "I'll ask you
one thing--afterward you will tell me the truth, exactly how Chichester
impresses you now in comparison with the impression you got of him two
years ago. You--you have no objection to promising to tell me?"

Malling hesitated.

"But is it quite fair to Chichester?" he said. "Sup