To-morrow he would attend morning service at St. Joseph's.

Malling was not a regular church-goer. He belonged to the Stepton breed.
But he was an earnest man and no scoffer, and some of his best friends
were priests and clergymen. Nevertheless it was in a rather unusual
go-to-meeting frame of mind that he got into a tail-coat and top hat, and
set forth in a hansom to St. Joseph's the next morning.

He had never been there before. As he drew near he found people flowing
toward the great church on foot, in cabs and carriages. Evidently Mr.
Harding had attractive powers, and Malling began to wonder whether he
would have any difficulty in obtaining the seat he wanted, in some corner
from which he could get a good view both of the chancel and the pulpit.
Were vergers "bribable"? What an ignoramus he was about church matters!

He smiled to himself as he paid the cabman and joined the stream of
church-goers which was passing in through the open door.

Just as he was entering the building someone in the crowd by accident
jostled him, and he was pushed rather roughly against a tall lady
immediately before him. She turned round with a startled face, and
Malling hastily begged her pardon.

"I was pushed," he said. "Forgive me."

The lady smiled, her lips moved, doubtless in some words of conventional
acceptance, then she disappeared in the throng, taking her way toward
the left of the church. She was a slim woman, with a white streak in her
dark hair just above the forehead. Her face, which was refined and