Chichester accepted Lady Sophia's subtle homage with an air of unconsciousness. His interior melancholy seemed to lift him above the small things that flatter small men. He acknowledged that he was tired, and would be glad of tea. He had been down in the East End. The rector had asked him to talk over something with Mr. Carlile of the Church Army. "You mean that you suggested to the rector that it would be wise to see Mr. Carlile," said Lady Sophia. "Is the rector coming in to tea?" asked Chichester. "Possibly he may," she replied. "He knew Mr. Malling was to be here. Did you tell him you were coming?" "No. I was not certain I should get away in time." "I think he will probably turn up." A footman brought in tea at this moment, and Malling told the curate he had heard him preach in the evening of last Sunday. "It was a deeply interesting sermon," he said. "Thank you," said Chichester, very impersonally. The footman went away, and Lady Sophia began to make tea. "When I went home," Malling continued, "I sat up till late thinking it over. Part of it suggested to my mind one or two rather curious speculations." "Which part?" asked Lady Sophia, dipping a spoon into a silver tea-caddy. "The part about the man and his double." She shivered, and some of the tea with which she had just filled the spoon was shaken out of it. "That was terrible," she said. "What were your speculations?" said Chichester, showing a sudden and definite waking up of keen interest. "One of them was this--" Before he could continue, the door opened again, and the tall and powerful form of the rector appeared. And as the outer man of Chichester seemed to Malling to have begun subtly to change, in obedience surely to the change of his inner man, so seemed Mr. Harding a little altered physically, as he now slowly came forward to greet his wife's two visitors. The power of his physique seemed to be struck at by something within, and to be slightly marred. One saw that largeness can become but a wide surface for the tragic exhibition of weakness. As the rector perceived the presence of Chichester, an expression of startled pain fled over his face and was gone in an instant. He greeted the two men and sat down. "Have you just begun tea?" he asked, looking now at his wife. "We are just going to begin it," she replied. "We are talking about the sermon of last Sunday." "Oh," rejoined the rector. He turned to Malling. "Did you come to hear me preach again?" There was a note as of slight reassurance in his voice. "Mr. Chichester's sermon," said Lady Sophia. "Oh, I see," said the rector. He glanced hastily from one to the other of the three people in the room, like a man searching for sympathy or help. "What were you saying about our friend Chichester's sermon?" he asked, with a forced air of interest. Lady Sophia distributed cups for tea. "I was speaking of that part of it which dealt with the man who followed his double," said Malling. "Ah?" said the rector.