Henry smiled faintly.
"I think you stand a fair chance of being promoted into one. Do you know what I wished to-day, when you were giving your evidence?"
"No, sir."
"That you were my own son."
Henry involuntarily glanced at Georgina, and she glanced at him: her face retained its calmness, but a flush of crimson came over his. No one observed them but Mr. St. John.
"I want you at the deanery to-night," continued the dean, releasing Henry. "No excuse about lessons now: your fall on Sunday has given you holiday. You will come?"
"Yes, sir."
"I mean to dinner—seven o'clock. The judges will be there. The one who tried the cause said he should like to meet you. Go and rest yourself until then."
"Thank you, sir. I will come."
Georgina's eyes sparkled, and she nodded to him in triumph a dozen times, as she walked on with the dean.