Then there was that point of Barbara's confirmation. Miss Waterhouse had asked him the previous year whether he should be holding confirmation classes, and he had said that he should, for the Advent confirmation, but only for the young people of the village, and that of course Barbara could not be expected to attend them. He had offered, at the sacrifice of his own valuable time to prepare Barbara for confirmation by herself, and Miss Waterhouse had thanked him, but had put the matter off. Then when the time had drawn near, and he had raised the question, he had been told that Barbara would not be confirmed that year at all. They would be in London after Christmas and she would be confirmed in the spring, at the church where her sisters had been. But they had not moved to London after Christmas, and Barbara had not been confirmed. He had asked about it and received an evasive answer. He was thinking of this, and getting nettled about it, as he walked through the park to the Abbey, when it suddenly occurred to him that this was probably what Grafton wanted to see him about. Well, if it was, that would put a good many things right. He would pocket the offence that he had felt and had been _right_ in feeling, at having had his offer treated in the fashion it had been, and would renew it. Barbara was a very interesting child--she was seventeen, and ought to have been confirmed long ago--and he would enjoy his talks with her. By the time he reached the house he was convinced that it was Barbara's religious education that Grafton wished to see him about. He was received in the long, low library, with its ranks of mellow russet books which no one ever read, its raftered ceiling, and its latticed windows. It was the room which Grafton called his, but seldom used except for business purposes or when men were staying in the house. He was writing at a table at the far end of the room when the Vicar was announced, and came forward to greet him at once with his pleasant friendly air. It was no part of his intention to antagonise him. The Vicar began the conversation. "I wondered, as I came up," he said in his pompous but would-be-intimate manner, "whether it was about Barbara's confirmation you wanted to talk to me. She really ought to have been confirmed last year, and the intention was that she should be this spring, wasn't it? There will be a confirmation either here or at Feltham later on in the year, and I shall be very pleased to prepare her for it if you wish it. I could come here once or twice a week, or she could come to me, whichever you preferred." Grafton was about to refuse, rather shortly, when he bethought himself. "Are you going to have a confirmation class?" he asked. "Oh, yes. But I shouldn't expect her to attend that. It's for the boys and girls of the village. There are one or two farmers' daughters this year, but nobody of the same class as Barbara. You couldn't--"