"Oh, Laura--do remember, dear!--don't ask Alan about those
pictures--those frescoes--by young Williams. I can tell you some
time--and you might say something to hurt him--poor Alan!"

Laura drew herself away.

"Why should I say anything to hurt him? What's the mystery?"

"I can't tell you now"--Mrs. Fountain looked anxiously towards the hall.
"People have been so hard on Alan--_so_ unkind about it! It's been a
regular persecution. And you wouldn't understand--wouldn't
sympathise----"

"I really don't care to know about it, Augustina! And I'm so
hungry--famished! Look, there's Mr. Helbeck signing to us. Joy!--that's
dinner."

* * * * *

Laura expected the midday meal with some curiosity. But she saw no signs
of austerity. Mr. Helbeck pressed the roast chicken on Father Bowles,
took pains that he should enjoy a better bottle of wine than usual, and
as to himself ate and drank very moderately indeed, but like anybody
else. Laura could only imagine that it was not seemly to outdo your
priest.

The meal of course was served in the simplest way, and all the waiting
was done by Mr. Helbeck, who would allow nobody to help him in the task.