years ago? It would of course be natural enough if I were."

Malling looked at him for a minute steadily.

"In appearance, you mean?"

"Of course."

"To-night it seems to me that you have altered a good deal."

"To-night?" said the curate, as if with anxiety.

"If there is any change,--and I think there is,--it seems to me more
apparent to-night than it was when I saw you the other day."

Ellen, the maid, entered the room bearing a tray on which was a
soup-tureen.

"Oh, dinner!" said Chichester. "Let us sit down. You won't mind simple
fare, I hope. We are having soup, mutton,--I am not sure what else."

"Stewed fruit, sir," interpolated Ellen.

"To be sure! Stewed fruit and custard. Open the claret, Ellen, please."

"Have you been in these rooms long?" asked Malling, as they unfolded
their napkins.

"Two years. All the time I have been at St. Joseph's. The rector told me
of them. The curate who preceded me had occupied them."