"You've heard the news, then?" Douglas queried.
"Sure; though I doubted it at first."
"Yes, I'm going. I've just had a talk with the Bishop, and that was what kept me late."
"What did he say?"
"Oh, he doesn't mind. I'm too small a fish for him to worry about. He was so busy all the afternoon that I was kept waiting until the eleventh hour, and accordingly was favoured with only a few minutes."
Garton detected the note of bitterness in his companion's voice, and did not question him any further just then. When at length within the house, and taken possession of by the Garton "kids"—two boys and a girl—Douglas became entirely changed. There was a lively romp first of all, and it was with difficulty that Mrs. Garton could induce the children to release their victim long enough to come to dinner. Then, at the table there was a contest as to who should sit next to the guest.
It was a happy family into which Douglas had entered. This was the one home in the whole city where he could feel perfectly at his ease, for he knew that he was sincerely welcome. Ever since his coming to St. Margaret's, Charles Garton had been his firm friend. Notwithstanding his big legal practice, this brilliant lawyer was always ready and willing to assist the young curate, and Douglas found it a great comfort to go to him for advice.
"I am afraid that I am a great intruder to-night," he told Mrs. Garton.
"But you must blame your husband this time."
"I shall absolve him from all his past sins for bringing you," was the smiling reply. "We were afraid that you were going to leave the city without coming to bid us good-bye."
"I hope I am not so ungrateful as that, after all your kindness to me."