However that might be, it is beyond question that the ridiculous clothes
that a clergyman of the Church of England is compelled to wear did not
make him absurd, nor did he look an over-dressed fop like Bentinck-Major.

Miss Dobell's gondolier was, on this present occasion, in an excellent
temper; and meeting his daughter Joan, he felt very genial towards her.
Joan had observed, several days before, that the family crisis might be
said to be past, and very thankful she was.

She had, at this time, her own happy dreams, so that father and daughter,
moved by some genial impulse, stopped and kissed.

"There! my dear!" said the Archdeacon. "And what are you doing this
afternoon, Joan?"

"I'm going with mother," she said, "to see Miss Ronder. It's time we
called, you know."

"I suppose it is." Brandon patted her cheek. "Everything you want?"

"Yes, father, thank you."

"That's right."

He left the house, humming a little tune. On the second step he paused, as
he was in the habit of doing, and surveyed the Precincts--the houses with
their shining knockers, their old-fashioned bow-windows and overhanging
portals, the Cathedral Green, and the towering front of the Cathedral
itself. He was, for a moment, a kind of presiding deity over all this. He