This Lance did not mind; but he was very sensitive as to the dignity of his Cathedral, and the perfections of his chosen friend, one Bill Harewood; and Fulbert was not slow to use the latter engine for 'getting a rise' out of him, while Clement as often, though with less design, offended by disparagement of his choir; nor could Edgar refuse himself the diversion of tormenting Clement by ironical questions and remarks on his standard of perfection, which mode of torture enchanted Fulbert, whenever he understood it. Thus these four brothers contrived to inflict a good amount of teasing on one another, all the more wearing and worrying because deprived of its only tolerable seasoning, mirth.
Clement had indeed a refuge in Mr. Audley's room, where he could find books, and willing ears for Mr. Fulmort's doings; but he availed himself of it less than might have been expected. Whether from inclination to his brothers' society, desire to do them good, or innate pugnacity, he was generally in the thick of the conflict; and before long he confided to Felix that he was seriously uneasy about Edgar's opinions.
'He is only chaffing you,' said Felix.
'Chaff, now!' said Clement.
'Well, Clem, you know you are enough to provoke a saint, you bore so intolerably about St. Matthew's.'
The much disgusted Clement retired into himself, but Felix was not satisfied at heart.
One was lacking on the cold misty New Year's morning, when even Geraldine could not be withheld from the Communion Feast of the living and departed. Each felt the disappointment when they found themselves only six instead of seven; but it was Clement who, as the boys were waiting for breakfast afterwards, began—
'Have not you been confirmed, Edgar?'
'How should I?'
'I am sure there are plenty of foreign Confirmations. I see them in the "British Catholic."'