“The Dean, if you mean him, is still at Magdalen College, sir,” said the clergyman, frigidly.
“Rum old fellow. How he used to sit upon me. Not a Maudlin man, I suppose?”
“I had the honour of being at that college, sir, when at Oxford.”
“Indeed! then it couldn’t have been very far from the time when I was there.”
“You—were you an Oxford man?” said the clergyman, staring blankly at his companion, who smiled at his astonishment.
“To be sure I was. You’ll find my name there—Geoffrey Trethick.”
“I—I have heard the name.”
“And I am addressing—”
For answer, after a little hesitation, the clergyman drew out a small pocket-book, with red edges to the diary, and carefully extracted a card, on which the other read aloud,—
“‘Reverend Edward Lee, Carnac.’ Humph! that’s odd,” he said. “I’m going to live at Carnac. Do you know a Mr Penwynn there?”