Every one looked at Lord Huddersfield; the air was tense with expectation. "Your good brother, Miss Blantyre," the peer began--Lucy gave a quick gasp and the colour faded from her lips--"your good brother, yesterday in church, was saying Mass when suddenly some local residents rose in their places and made an open protest, shouting and brawling at the very moment of the Prayer of Consecration!" Lucy gazed steadfastly at him, waiting. He said nothing more. "Go on, please," she managed to whisper at last. "They were at once ejected, of course," Lord Huddersfield said. "And Bernard?" "Although his state of mind must have been terrible, despite his pain, I learn from a private telegram that he continued the service to the end." The three young people stared incredulously; only Father Saltus suddenly looked very grave. "But--why--is that all, Lord Huddersfield?" Lucy said with a gasp of half-relief. "I thought you meant that something dreadful had happened to Bernard." "Yes," he said, very surprised, "I have told you." James picked up his knife and fork, and continued his lunch without a word. He was very angry with his father. Agatha shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Oh, that wasn't quite fair, Lord Huddersfield," Lucy said tremulously. "You really made me think some awful thing had happened. Only a brawl in church?" "I am very sorry, my dear," he answered quickly; "I fear I have shown a great want of tact. I did not know. I forgot, that is, that you don't quite see these things as we do. You don't realise what it means." "Shall I give you some chicken, Father?" Agatha said, looking at a dish of mayonnaise before her. She thought that there had been quite a fuss made about nothing. Lord Huddersfield sighed. He felt that he was in a thoroughly uncongenial atmosphere, though he was sorry for the alarm he had caused. Once his eye fell in mild wonder upon his guest. How unlike her brother she was, he thought. There was an awkward silence, which James broke at length. "I always thought," he said, "that there would be trouble soon. The days for locking clergymen up have passed by, but Protestant feeling is bound to have its outlet." His quick brain had seized upon the main point at once. "Well, there will be more work for the lawyers," he continued. Lord Huddersfield frowned a little. "Of course, I can't expect you to see the thing as I do, James," he said. "To me such a public insult to our Lord is terrible. It almost frightens one. What poor Blantyre must have felt, what every Catholic there must have felt, is most painful to imagine." "I'm sure Mr. Poyntz has sympathy with any body of people whose most sacred moment has been roughly disturbed," the chaplain said. "Whatever a man's convictions may be, he must feel that. But the thing is over and nothing can put it right. What I fear is, that this is only the beginning of a series of sacrilegious acts which may do the Church incalculable harm."