with Mr. Biddell his partner, and had the reputation of a sound and
careful man without bigotry or passion.

It was, then, a shock to his love of peace and serenity, to hear that
yet another Catholic house had fallen, and that Mr. Audrey, one of his
clients, could no longer be reckoned as one of his co-religionists.

The next point for his reflection was that Robin was refusing to follow
his father's example; the third, that somebody must harbour the boy over
Easter, and that, in his daughter's violently expressed opinion, and
with his wife's consent, he, Thomas Manners, was the proper person to do
it. Last, that it was plain that there was something between his
daughter and this boy, though what that was he had been unable to
understand. Marjorie had flown suddenly from the room just as he was
beginning to put his questions.

It is no wonder, then, that his peace of mind was gone. Not only were
large principles once more threatened--considerations of religion and
loyalty, but also those small and intimate principles which, so far more
than great ones, agitate the mind of the individual. He did not wish to
lose a client; yet neither did he wish to be unfriendly to a young
confessor for the faith. Still less did he wish to lose his daughter,
above all to a young man whose prospects seemed to be vanishing. He
wondered whether it would be prudent to consult Mr. Biddell on the
point....

* * * * *

He was a small and precise man in his body and face, as well as in his
dress; his costume was, of course, of black; but he went so far as to