“I will accept it as truth,” said the dean. “You may continue to take the organ.”
“I knew God would be with me in the interview!” thought Arthur, as he thanked the dean and left the Chapter House.
He did not go home immediately. He had a commission to execute in the town, and went to do it. It took him about an hour, which brought it to five o’clock. In returning through the Boundaries he encountered Roland Yorke, just released from that bane of his life, the office, for the day. Arthur told him how near he had been to losing the Cathedral.
“By Jove!” uttered Roland, flying into one of his indignant fits. “A nice dean he is! He’d deserve to lose his own place, if he had done it.”
“Well, the danger is over for the present. I say, Yorke, does Galloway talk much about it?”
“Not he,” answered Roland. “He’s as sullen and crabbed as any old bear. I often say to Jenkins that he is in a temper with himself for having sent you away, and I don’t care if he hears me. There’s an awful amount to do since you went. I and Jenkins are worked to death. And there’ll be the busiest time of all the year coming on soon, with the autumn rents and leases. I shan’t stop long in it, I know!”
Smiling at Roland’s account of being “worked to death,” for he knew how much the assertion was worth, Arthur continued his way. Roland continued his, and, on entering his own house, met Constance Channing leaving it. He exchanged a few words of chatter with her, though it struck him that she looked unusually sad, and then found his way to the presence of his mother.
“What an uncommonly pretty girl that Constance Channing is!” quoth he, in his free, unceremonious fashion. “I wonder she condescends to come here to teach the girls!”
“I think I shall dismiss her, Roland,” said Lady Augusta.
“I expect she’ll dismiss herself, ma’am, without waiting for you to do it, now William Yorke has found bread and cheese, and a house to live in,” returned Roland, throwing himself at full length on a sofa.