greyhound carry himself in a kennel of well-bred foxhounds. He was
very correctly dressed, with Roman collar and stock, and obviously had
not long left a theological college. He had an engaging kind of
courtesy, ecclesiastically cut features, and curly black hair. He sat
balancing a delicate cup adroitly on his knee.

"Mr. Jamieson is so anxious to know all that is going on," explained
Lady Laura, with a voluble frankness. "He thinks it so necessary to be
abreast of the times, as he said to me the other day."

Laurie assented, grimly pitying the young man for his indiscreet
confidences. The clergyman looked priggish in his efforts not to do
so.

"He has a class of young men on Sundays," continued the
hostess--"(Another biscuit, Maud darling?)--whom he tries to interest
in all modern movements. He thinks it so important."

Mr. Jamieson cleared his throat in a virile manner.

"Just so," he said; "exactly so."

"And so I told him he must really come and meet Mr. Vincent.... I
can't think why he is so late; but he has so many calls upon his time,
that I am sure I wonder--"

"Mr. Vincent," announced the footman.

A rather fine figure of a man came forward into the room, dressed in
much better taste than Laurie somehow had expected, and not at all