"I am pleased to see you, Mr. Carrington," said Leigh, offering a dry, cold hand and giving the barrister a more searching glance than one would have expected from so mild a man. "I fancy I remember Rupert mentioning you as an old schoolfellow of Rugby days." "Oh, yes. We were great friends at school, and I am glad to renew our acquaintance, as you may guess, Mr. Leigh." "Quite so, quite so. And what's doing in London?" inquired the vicar in a weary manner as if he felt it incumbent upon him to manufacture conversation in which he took not the slightest interest. Rupert sat down on one pile of books--as there were no chairs--and Carrington on another pile, while the barrister gave the latest metropolitan gossip and the squire smoked stolidly. Mr. Leigh drew up his threadbare black trousers, showing socks of different color and pattern, and sat down to take his book again on his knee. His face was handsome in a refined and gentle way: he had scanty white hair and excellent teeth, which looked genuine: hands and feet slender and elegant, suggested race, and he had the stooping shoulders of a student. Carrington, observing him narrowly while he talked in a desultory manner, saw that here was the last withered branch of an ancient family tree. The sap of the race was exhausted in Simon Leigh, and he looked as though his frail organization could not last much longer. There was no fire in him: only the slowly fading heat of dying ashes. Remembering what Hendle had said about the vicar's craze for books he attempted to interest him in that direction, as Mr. Leigh appeared to be wholly indifferent to news of the busy world. "You are fond of archæology, I believe, sir," mentioned the barrister, glancing round the truly scholarly room. "I am devoted to it, Mr. Carrington," replied the student, his calm eyes flashing into vivid life. "Antiquities, ancient customs, the usages of the Middle Ages and Classic times, together with the traditions of religious belief and ceremony appeal more to my understanding than anything else." "Humph!" grunted the Squire pointedly, "surely as a parson----" "We have frequently argued on the subject, you hint at, Rupert," said Mr. Leigh hastily. "But as your views differ from mine, we have, as yet, not arrived at any agreement. As a parson I trust that I do my duty, though it may be that I am not the ideal of a parish priest." Hendle colored at this dignified rebuke. "I apologize, sir, but you rather mistake my true meaning. What I implied was that you are more of a scholar than a parson."