urse."

"To-night it seems to me that you have altered a good deal."

"To-night?" said the curate, as if with anxiety.

"If there is any change,--and I think there is,--it seems to me more
apparent to-night than it was when I saw you the other day."

Ellen, the maid, entered the room bearing a tray on which was a
soup-tureen.

"Oh, dinner!" said Chichester. "Let us sit down. You won't mind simple
fare, I hope. We are having soup, mutton,--I am not sure what else."

"Stewed fruit, sir," interpolated Ellen.

"To be sure! Stewed fruit and custard. Open the claret, Ellen, please."

"Have you been in these rooms long?" asked Malling, as they unfolded
their napkins.

"Two years. All the time I have been at St. Joseph's. The rector told me
of them. The curate who preceded me had occupied them."

"What became of him?"

"He has a living in Northampton now. But when he left he had nothing in
view."

"He was tired of work at St. Joseph's?"

"I don't think he got on with the rector."

The drip of the rain became audible outside, and a faint sound of
footsteps on the pavement.

"Possibly I shall not stay much longer," he added.

"No doubt you'll take a living."

"I don't know. I don't know. But, in any case, I may not stay much
longer--perhaps. That will do, Ellen; you may go and fetch the mutton.
Put the claret on the table, please."

When the maid was gone, he added:

"One doesn't want a servant in the room listening to all one says. As
she was standing behind me I had forgotten she was here. How it rains
to-night! I hate the sound of rain."

"It is dismal," said Malling, thinking of his depression while he had
walked to Hornton Street.

"Do you mind," said the curate, slightly lowering his voice, "if I speak
rather--rather confidentially to you?"

"Not at all, if you wish to--"

"Well, now, you are a man of the world, you've seen many people. I wish
you would tell me something."

"What is it?"

Ellen appeared with the mutton. As soon as she had put it on the table
and departed, Chichester continued:

"How does Mr. Harding strike you? What impression does he make upon you?"

Eagerness, even more, something that was surely anxiety, shone in his
eyes as he asked the question.

"He's a very agreeable man."

"Of course, of course! Would you say he was a man to have much power over
others, his fellow-men?"

"Speaking quite confidentially--"

"Nothing you say shall ever go beyond us two."

"Th