When they met the next morning, Edgar professed that he could not venture on sitting under Mr. Smith's actual sermon, but should go to Minsterham, to pay his respects to Wilmet's future relations, if there were a feasible train.
'Yes,' said Clement, 'there's one in twenty minutes, which brings one in time for the Cathedral.'
'Dr. Wilmet is engrossed with a distinguished patient. Eh? Come along then, Lance; I must have some one to present me.'
Lance gave a joyful leap; but Wilmet interposed, 'Indeed, Lance, it is hardly safe. Remember how bad your head was after Christmas Day.'
'It's my own head, and I may do as I like with it!'
'That's just what you can't now. If you were knocked up to-morrow—as you certainly would be, between the railroad and the organ—'
'That would be what you may call a fix,' observed Edgar. 'Knocked up between a railway and an organ! What a position!'
'It is quite true, Edgar,' said Wilmet, the more severely for the laughter of Lance and Angel. 'Lance knows very well that one of his headaches perfectly disables him. Felix would not be content to leave Mr. Lamb alone in the shop; and all the good of these three days would be undone.'
'Oh—h! it was a pillar of the state I was asking?' said Edgar. 'Is your head really so ticklish, Lance?' as the boy made a gesture of disgust.
'Don't persuade him, Edgar. He ought not to do it,' said Wilmet, in her blunt authoritative way.