in ran; and Francis rejoiced that
Brother Masseo's orts and scraps of bread were larger than his
own, saying, "Brother Masseo, we are not worthy of such
treasure." "But how," asked Brother Masseo, "can one speak of
treasure when there is such lack of all things needful?
Here have we neither cloth, nor knife, nor plate, nor porringer,
nor house, nor table, nor manservant, nor maidservant."
Answered Francis, "This and none else it is that I account wide
treasure; which containeth nothing prepared by human hands, but
all we have is of God's own providence--as this bread we have
begged, set out on a table of stone so fine, beside a fountain
so clear. Wherefore," said he, "let us kneel together and pray
God to increase our love of this holy Poverty, which is so noble
that thereunto God himself became a servitor."'

The declining sun, slanting in past the Banksia roses, touched
the edge of a giant amethyst which the Master wore, by inheritance
of office, on his forefinger; and, because his hand trembled a
little with age, the gem set the reflected ray dancing in a
small pool of light, oval-shaped and wine-coloured, on the white
margin of the sermon. He stared at it for a moment, tracing it
mistakenly to a glass of Rhone wine--a _Chateau Neuf du Pape_ of a date
before the phylloxera--that stood neglected on the writing-table.
(By his doctor's orders he took a glass of old wine and a biscuit
every afternoon at this hour as a gentle digestive.)

Thus reminded, he reached out a hand and raised the wine to his lips,
nodding as he sipped.

"In Common Room, Simeon, we used to say that no man was really
educated who preferred Burgundy to claret, but that on the lower
Rhone all tastes met in one ecstasy. . . . I'd like to have your
opinion on this, now; that is, if you will find the decanter and a
glass in the cupboard yonder--and if you have no conscientious
objection."

Mr. Simeon murmured, amid his thanks, that he had no objection.

"I am glad to hear it. . . . Between ourselves, there is always
something lacking in an abstainer--as in a man who has never learnt
Greek. It is difficult with both to say what the lack precisely is;
but with both it includes an absolute insensibility to the
shortcoming."

Mr. Simeon could not help wondering if this applied to poor men who
abstained of necessity. He thought not; being, for his part,
conscious of a number of s