The three smokers slowly turned their heads, as the minister entered the room, and, on recognising him, they all rose to their feet.
“Good evening, sir,” said Mr. Caske, advancing, with his pipe in his left hand, and his right hand stretched out; “you have surprised us at our devotions again.”
“Which you are performing,” rejoined the minister, “with an earnestness worthy of a nobler object of worship.”
Mr. Caske laughed huskily; and the minister turned to greet Messrs. Botterill and Kershaw, who were waiting, pipes in hand, to resume their seats.
Mr. Botterill was a wine and spirit merchant, and Mr. Kershaw was a draper in a large way.
When they had all taken their seats, a few moments of silence ensued. This was occasioned by the necessity which arose for the three smokers vigorously to puff their pipes, which had burnt low; and perhaps there was some little reluctance, on the part of Mr. Caske and his friends, to resume the conversation which had been in progress previous to the entrance of Mr. Durnford. When the pipes had been blown up, and were once more in full blast, there was no longer any excuse for silence. Mr. Caske, being the host, was then the first to speak. He had known his minister too well to invite him to partake of the refreshment with which he was regaling his friends.
He was a small, rotund man, with shining, rosy cheeks, and a husky voice.
“All well with you, Mr. Durnford?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Caske; but I am afraid I intrude?”
He was conscious of some constraint on the part of the company.