Notwithstanding, he was a little late next morning. When he came down he found them already seated in the coffee-room. There were others breakfasting here and there in the room, chiefly upon toast-racks and newspapers, and he did not at once observe that the gentleman standing with his back set negligently against the mantelpiece was talking to Kate. Arrived at the table, however, he saw that it was so; and the cheery greeting on his lips faded into a commonplace “Good-morning, Miss Bonamy.” He took no apparent notice of the stranger as he added, “I am afraid I am rather late.” The intruder, a short dark-whiskered man between thirty and forty, seemed to the full as much surprised by the clergyman’s appearance as Lindo was by his, and as little able to hide the feeling as Kate herself to control the color which rose in her cheeks. She gave Mr. Lindo his tea in silence, and then with an obvious effort introduced the two men. “This is Dr. Gregg of Claversham—Mr. Lindo,” she said. Lindo rose and shook hands. “Mr. Lindo the younger, I presume?” said the doctor, with a bow and a swagger intended to show that he was quite at his ease. “The only one, I am afraid,” replied the rector, smiling. Though he by no means liked the look of the man. “Did I rightly catch your name?” was the answer—“‘Mr. Lindo?’” “Yes,” said the rector again, opening his eyes. “But—you are not—you do not mean to say that you are the new rector?” pronounced the dark man abruptly, and with a kind of aggressiveness which seemed his most striking quality—“the rector of Claversham, I mean?” “I believe so,” said Lindo quietly. “You want some more water, do you not, Miss Bonamy?” he continued. “Let me ring the bell.” He rose and crossed the room to do so. The truth was, he hated the newcomer already. His first sentence had been enough. His manner was not the manner of the men with whom Lindo had mixed, and the rector felt almost angry with Kate for introducing Gregg—-albeit his parishioner—to him, and quite angry with her for suffering the doctor to address her with the familiarity he seemed to affect. And Kate, her eyes downcast, knew by instinct how it was with him, and what he was thinking. “I have been telling Dr. Gregg,” she said hurriedly, when he returned, “how we missed our train yesterday.” “Rather how I missed it for you,” Lindo answered gravely, much engaged apparently with his breakfast. “Ah, yes, it was very funny!” fired off the doctor, watching each mouthful they ate. Daintry had finished, and was sitting back in her chair kicking the leg of the table monotonously; not in the best of tempers apparently. “Very funny indeed!” the doctor continued. “An accident, I hope?” with a little sniggling laugh. “Yes!” said the rector, looking up at him with a black brow and steadfast eyes—“it was an accident.”