The meal pursued its common course of dullness. Luke retailed some petty gossip about a family named Vickars, who had recently joined the church; and Beverley contrived to get upon his usual topic of fiscal reform, producing as his own opinions the substance of a leading article which had appeared in the morning paper. No one took any notice of Beverley, but Luke's topic of conversation proved more interesting, especially to the only other deacon present, a middle-aged, slightly gray man, with quick, crafty eyes, called Scales. Scales kept the record of the seat-holders, and felt that Beverley was intruding on his own peculiar domain when he described the Hilary Vickars, the new family which had joined the congregation. "I know them very well," he remarked. "They have only taken two sittings, and they are not the sort of people who will add much strength to the church. They live in a small house in Lonsdale Road--one of your houses, sir," he added, turning to Masterman. "A very good class of people live in Lonsdale Road, I believe," said Masterman drily. "Oh yes, of course--I know that; and in the changing conditions of the neighbourhood a street of houses like Lonsdale Road is a great benefit to the locality. But this Hilary Vickars only rents a part of a house, I am informed, and that is what I meant when I said he wouldn't add much strength to the church." "Hilary Vickars," said Arthur. "Why, isn't he a writer? I think I saw his name mentioned the other day as the author of a novel which appeared this spring." "Very likely," said Scales. "Now I think of it, some one told me he wrote for the papers. I wonder now if he couldn't give the church a write-up in _The Weekly Journal_ some day?" "In that case he might prove a greater accession to the church than you imagine," said Beverley, who was always glad to score a point against Scales, whose assumption of authority he disliked. Scales made no reply. He really had no information about Hilary Vickars, beyond the fact that he had taken a sitting in the church. As he never read a book of any kind, nor a literary journal, he was quite ignorant of Hilary Vickar's pretensions as a writer. But since Beverley appeared to think Vickars an acquisition of some value, he was eager to prove the contrary. He remembered opportunely that it was immediately after John Clark's sermon on jerry-building that Vickars had applied for sittings, and immediately said so, with a crafty glance at Masterman. "Of course I don't know what other people think," he added, "but I consider that sermon an outrage." Arthur flushed. "Do you really?" he asked. "It seems to me that to say that is to beg the whole question. The real, and therefore the only, question is, Was it true?" Masterman turned his heavy, frowning gaze on Arthur. "We won't discuss that here," he said. "If you are ready, gentlemen, we will adjourn to my office."