"Master, I have neither, save as I fetch them from Him that hath. `I can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth me.'" "He doth not strengthen me!" moaned the weak man. "Have you asked Him, Master?" quietly replied the strong one. Mr Roberts made no answer, and Roger knew that meant a negative. In his heart the master was conscious that he had not asked. He had said multitudinous "paters" and "aves," had repeated "Hail Marys" by the score--all the while half thinking of something else; but never once in his inmost soul had he said to the Lord--"Saviour, I am weak; make me strong." A few minutes' silence, and Mr Roberts turned back to the accounts, half-ashamed that he had allowed that glimpse of his true self to be seen. And Roger Hall said no more, except to God. The master went home to supper at four o'clock. Ten was then the hour for dinner, four for supper; people who kept late hours made it eleven and five. As Mr Roberts came in sight of his own door, his heart sank down into his shoes. On the door-step stood a black-robed figure which he knew only too well, and which he would gladly have given a handful of gold to know he might have no chance of seeing for a month to come. A faint idea of hiding himself in the shrubs crossed his mind for a moment; but he could not stay there for an indefinite time, and the priest would in all probability wait for him, if it were he whom he meant to see. No, it would be better to go forward and get it over; but it was with a fervid wish that it were over that Mr Roberts went on and deferentially saluted his Rector. That reverend gentleman thoroughly understood his man. Had it been possible to gauge the human soul with a thermometer, he could have guessed with accuracy how it would read. He met him, not with severity, but with a deep gravity which conveyed the idea that something serious required discussion, and that he earnestly hoped the culprit would be able to clear himself of the charge. In the hall they were met by Mistress Grena and Gertrude, who had seen them coming, and who came forward, as in duty bound, to show extra respect to their spiritual pastor. The genuine spirituality was more than dubious: but that did not matter. He was a "spiritual person"-- though the person was exceedingly unspiritual! The priest gave a blessing to the ladies with two fingers extended in a style which must require some practice, and at Mistress Grena's request sat down with them to supper. During the meal the conversation was general, though the priest retained his serious aspect of something unpleasant to come. The heavy part of the supper was over, and cheese, with late apples, Malaga raisins, and Jordan almonds, had made their appearance; the ladies prepared to withdraw. "Mistress Holland," said the Rector, "I beseech you to tarry yet a little season"--adding to Gertrude, "I need not detain you, my daughter."