"That was all," replied Mr. Galloway. And if you wonder at a staid old
proctor chattering about this desultory news with his clerks in
business hours, it may be explained to you that Mr. Galloway took the
greatest possible interest, almost a boyish interest, in the college
school. It was where he had been educated himself, where his nephews
were being educated; he was on intimate terms with its masters; knew
every boy in it to speak to; saw them troop past his house daily in
their progress to and fro; watched them in their surplices in a Sunday,
during morning and afternoon service; was cognizant of their
advancement, their shortcomings, their merits, and their scrapes: in
fact, the head-master could not take a greater interest in the doings
of the collegiate school, than did Mr. Galloway. Whether of work, or
whether of gossip, his ears were ever open to listen to its records.
Besides, they were not so overburdened with work in that office, but
that there was ample time for discussing any news that might be
agreeable to its master. His work was light; his returns were heavy;
his stewardship alone brought him in several hundreds a year.

"The Reverend Mr. Pye seems uncommonly annoyed about it, sir," Mr.
Jenkins ventured to put in. To interrupt, or take part in any
conversation, was not usual with him, unless he could communicate
little tit-bits of information touching the passing topic. "You are
aware that Mr. Harper, the lay-clerk, lodges at our house, sir. Well,
Mr. Pye came round last night, especially to question him about it."

"What could Harper tell?" asked Mr. Galloway.

"He could not tell anything; except that he would answer for the
lay-clerks knowing nothing of the transaction. The master said he never
supposed the lay-clerks did know anything of it, but he had his reasons