Sunday sermon, a Power, which I felt but did not understand, baffled
all my attempts to gain an entrance and attract his notice. I made
a desperate attack on him after lunch as he sat smoking and enjoying
a well-earned rest, but it was of no avail. I followed him to a
large garden-party later on, but to my great annoyance he went about
talking to every one in the pleasantest way imaginable, though I
perceived that he was longing to play tennis instead.

At length, however, my opportunity came. Mr. Blackthorne was
talking to the lady of the house, Mrs. Courtenay, when she suddenly
exclaimed:-


"Ah, here is Mr. Zaluski just arriving. I began to be afraid that
he had forgotten the day, and he is always such an acquisition. How
do you do, Mr. Zaluski?" she said, greeting my victim warmly as he
stepped on to the terrace. "So glad you were able to come. You
know Mr. Blackthorne, I think."

Zaluski greeted the curate pleasantly, and his dark eyes lighted up
with a gleam of amusement.

"Oh, we are great friends," he said laughingly. "Only, you know, I
sometimes shock him a little--just a very little."

"That is very unkind of you, I am sure," said Mrs. Courtenay,
smiling.

"No, not at all," said Zaluski, with the audacity of a privileged
being. "It is just my little amusement, very harmless, very--what