As he laid out the suit of clothes that he proposed to wear next day, there was a rapping on his door.
"Mr. Babington is come—sir." (The last word was added as an obvious afterthought, in case of listeners.)
Robin sprang up; the door was opened by his "servant," and Anthony came in, smiling.
* * * * *
Mr. Anthony Babington had broadened and aged considerably during the last five years. He was still youthful-looking, but he was plainly a man and no longer a boy. And he presently said as much for his friend.
"You are a man, Robin," he said.—"Why, it slipped my mind!"
He knelt down promptly on the strip of carpet and kissed the palms of the hands held out to him, as is the custom to do with newly-ordained priests, and Robin murmured a blessing.
Then the two sat down again.
"And now for the news," said Robin.
Anthony's face grew grave.