The "Gloria" rang triumphantly up into the shadows of the nave. Brandon
moved once more across to the Lectern. He read of the casting of the
money-changers out of the Temple.

His voice quivered with pride and exultation so that Cobbett, who had
acquired, after many years' practice, the gift of sleeping during the
Lessons and Sermon with his eyes open, woke up with a start and wondered
what was the matter.

Brandon's mood, when he was back in his own drawing-room, did not leave
him; it was rather intensified by the cosiness and security of his home.
Lying back in his large arm-chair in front of the fire, his long legs
stretched out before him, he could hear the rain beating on the window-
panes and beyond that the murmur of the organ (Brockett, the organist, was
practising, as he often did after Evensong).

The drawing-room was a long narrow one with many windows; it was furnished
in excellent taste. The carpet and the curtains and the dark blue
coverings to the chairs were all a little faded, but this only gave them
an additional dignity and repose. There were two large portraits of
himself and Mrs. Brandon painted at the time of their marriage, some low
white book-shelves, a large copy of "Christ in the Temple"--plenty of
space, flowers, light.

Mrs. Brandon was, at this time, a woman of forty-two, but she looked very
much less than that. She was slight, dark, pale, quite undistinguished.
She had large grey eyes that looked on to the ground when you spoke to
her. She was considered a very shy woman, negative in every way. She
agreed with everything that was said to her and seemed to have no opinions