opening it again as he saw the delightfully imploring look of his old
friend Bunce. Oh, Bunce, Bunce, Bunce, I fear that after all thou art
but a flatterer. "Well, I'll just finish it then; it's a favourite
little bit of Bishop's; and then, Mr Bold, we'll have a stroll and
a chat till Eleanor comes in and gives us tea." And so Bold sat
down on the soft turf to listen, or rather to think how, after such
sweet harmony, he might best introduce a theme of so much discord, to
disturb the peace of him who was so ready to welcome him kindly.

Bold thought that the performance was soon over, for he felt that
he had a somewhat difficult task, and he almost regretted the final
leave-taking of the last of the old men, slow as they were in going
through their adieux.

Bold's heart was in his mouth, as the precentor made some ordinary but
kind remark as to the friendliness of the visit.

"One evening call," said he, "is worth ten in the morning. It's all
formality in the morning; real social talk never begins till after
dinner. That's why I dine early, so as to get as much as I can of
it."

"Quite true, Mr Harding," said the other; "but I fear I've reversed
the order of things, and I owe you much apology for troubling you on
business at such an hour; but it is on business that I have called
just now."

Mr Harding looked blank and annoyed; there was something in the
tone of the young man's voice which told him that the interview was
intended to be disagreeable, and he shrank back at finding his kindly