"If there is any change,—and I think there is,—it seems to me more apparent to-night than it was when I saw you the other day."
Ellen, the maid, entered the room bearing a tray on which was a soup-tureen.
"Oh, dinner!" said Chichester. "Let us sit down. You won't mind simple fare, I hope. We are having soup, mutton,—I am not sure what else."
"Stewed fruit, sir," interpolated Ellen.
"To be sure! Stewed fruit and custard. Open the claret, Ellen, please."
"Have you been in these rooms long?" asked Malling, as they unfolded their napkins.
"Two years. All the time I have been at St. Joseph's. The rector told me of them. The curate who preceded me had occupied them."
"What became of him?"
"He has a living in Northampton now. But when he left he had nothing in view."
"He was tired of work at St. Joseph's?"