"Well, often," said Ronder, "that _is_ a danger. I know several cases
where a change would be all for the better, but in your case there wasn't
a trace of staleness. I do hope you won't think me presumptuous in saying
this. I couldn't help myself. I must congratulate you, too, on the choir.
How do you find Brockett as an organist?"

"Not quite all one would wish," said Ryle eagerly--and then, as though he
remembered that some one might repeat this to Brockett, he added
hurriedly, "Not that he doesn't do his best. He's an excellent fellow.
Every one has their faults. It's only that he's a _little_ too fond
of adventures on his own account, likes to add things on the spur of the
moment...a little _fantastic_ sometimes."

"Quite so," said Ronder gravely. "That's rather what I'd thought myself.
I noticed it once or twice last Sunday. But that's a fault on the right
side. The boys behave admirably. I never saw better behaviour."

Kyle was now in his element. He let himself go, explaining this, defending
that, apologising for one thing, hoping for another. Before he knew where
he was he found himself at the turning above the monument that led to the
High School.

"Here we part," he said.

"Why, so we do," cried Ronder.

"I do hope," said Ryle nervously, "that you'll come and see us soon. Mrs.
Ryle will be delighted...."