ll pictures, and a harmonium. And Mr
Mallow was writing at a desk with drawers, copying something out of a
book. He was stout and short, and wore spectacles.

He covered his writing up when we went in--I didn't know why. He looked
rather cross, and we heard Jane or somebody being scolded outside by the
voice. I hope it wasn't for letting us in, but I have had doubts.

'Well,' said the clergyman, 'what is all this about?'

'You asked us to call,' Dora said, 'about your little Sunday school. We
are the Bastables of Lewisham Road.'

'Oh--ah, yes,' he said; 'and shall I expect you all to-morrow?'

He took up his pen and fiddled with it, and he did not ask us to sit
down. But some of us did.

'We always spend Sunday afternoon with Father,' said Dora; 'but we
wished to thank you for being so kind as to ask us.'

'And we wished to ask you something else!' said Oswald; and he made
a sign to Alice to get the sherry ready in the glass. She did--behind
Oswald's back while he was speaking.

'My time is limited,' said Mr Mallow, looking at his watch; 'but
still--' Then he muttered something about the fold, and went on: 'Tell
me what is troubling you, my little man, and I will try to give you any
help in my power. What is it you want?'

Then Oswald quickly took the glass from Alice, and held it out to him,
and said, 'I want your opinion on that.'

'On _that_,' he said. 'What is it?'

'It is a shipment,' Oswald said; 'but it's quite enough for you to
taste.' Alice had filled the glass half-full; I suppose she was too
excited to measure properly.

'A shipment?' said the clergyman, taking the glass in his hand.

'Yes,' Oswald went On; 'an exceptional opportunity. Full-bodied and
nutty.'

'It really does taste rather like one kind of Brazil-nut.' Alice put her
oar in as usual.

The Vicar looked from Alice to Oswald, and back again, and Oswald went
on with what he had learned from the printing. The clergyman held the
glass at half-arm's-length, stiffly, as if he had caught cold.

'It is of a quality never before offered at the price. Old Delicate
Amoro--what's its name--'

'Amorolio,' said H. O.

'Amoroso,' said Oswald. 'H. O., you just shut up--Castilian
Amoroso--it's a true after-dinner wine, stimulating and yet...'

'_Wine_?' said Mr Mallow, holding the glass further off. 'Do you
_know_,' he went on, making his voice very thick and strong (I expect he
does it like that in church), 'have you never been _taught_ t