atholicism or sound Paganism; no third choice."

In truth Master Blanchminster's dinner was spoilt for him.
He sat distraught, fingering his bread between the courses which
he scarcely tasted, and giving answers at random, after pauses, to
the Bishop's small-talk. He was wounded. He had lived for years a
life as happy as any that can fall to the lot of an indolent,
unambitious man, who loves his fellows and takes a delight in their
gratitude. St. Hospital exactly suited him. He knew its history.
His affection, like an ivy, clung about its old walls and
incorporated itself in the very mortar that bound them. He loved to
spy one of its Brethren approaching in the street; to anticipate and
acknowledge the deferential salute; to see himself as father of a
happy family, easily controlling it by good will, in the right of
good birth.

He had been a reformer, too. The staircase beside the dais led to an
upper chamber whence, through a small window pierced in the wall,
former Masters had conceived it their duty to observe the behaviour
of the Brethren at meals. In his sixth year of office Master
Blanchminster had sent for masons to block this window up.
The act of espial had always been hateful to him: he preferred to
trust his brethren, and it cost far less trouble. For close upon
thirty years he had avoided their dinner-hour on all but Gaudy Days.

He had been warming a serpent, and it had bitten him. The wound
stung, too. Angry he was at Warboise's disloyalty; angrier at the
manner of it. If these old men had a grievance, or believed they
had, at least they might have trusted him first with it. Had he ever
been tyrannical, harsh, unsympathetic even, that instead of coming to
him as to their father and Master they should have put this public
affront on him and appealed straight away to the Bishop? To be sure,
the Statutes provided that the Bishop of Merchester, as Visitor, had
power to inquire into the administration of St. Hospital and to
remedy abuses. But everyone knew that within living memory, and for
a hundred years before, this power had never been invoked. Doubtless
these malcontents, whoever they might be--and it disquieted Master
Blanchminster yet further that he could not guess as yet who they
were or how many--had kept to the letter of their rights. But good
Heaven! had _he_ in all these years interpreted his rule by the
letter, and not rather and constantly by the spirit?

Brother Copas was