Harry went to the head of the stairs and called, and Bethel came rushing up. Sunday made no difference to his clothes, and he wore the grey suit and flannel collar of their first meeting.
His greeting was, as ever, boisterous. "Hullo! Trojan! that's splendid! I was afraid they'd carry you off to that church of yours or you'd have a tea-party or something. I'm glad they've spared you."
"No, I went this morning," Harry answered, "all of us solemnly in the family coach. I thought that was enough for one day."
"We used to have a carriage when papa was alive," said Mrs. Bethel, "and we drove to church every Sunday. We were the only people beside the Porsons, and theirs was only a pony-cart."
"Well, for my part, I hate driving," said Mary. "It puts you in a bad temper for the sermon."
"Let's have tea," said Bethel. "I'm as hungry as though I'd listened to fifty parsons."
And, indeed, he always was. He ate as though he had had no meal for a month at least, and he had utterly demolished the tea-cake before he realised that no one else had had any.
"Oh, I say, I'm so sorry," he said ruefully. "Mary, why didn't you tell me? I'll never forgive myself——" and proceeded to finish the saffron buns.
"All the same," said Mary, "we're going to church to-night, all of us, and if you're very good, Mr. Trojan, you shall come too."
Harry paused for a moment. "I shall be delighted," he said; "but where do you go?"