It was one o’clock in the morning before he returned to his rooms. It was far too late to reply to the score of telephone-calls that, he was told, Forbes had made on him. Luke remembered that he had promised Betty to go with her to service at Nicholson’s church. §7. He was strengthened by his brief rest, and he went to Betty with a heart renewed. "Father’s still asleep," she said, as she met him in the hall of the Forbes house, her gloved fingers busied with her hair, preventing the escape of one of the yellow wire pins that held the few strands too short for her pins of tortoise-shell. "He wanted to be called, but he was so tired out, I told the maid not to disturb him. He sat up ever so late, waiting for you. Where were you, Luke?" Luke had rarely seen her looking better. The Sunday calm had erased all the tokens of the recent trying days from her face: it was rosy and young; it was appealingly almost childish. The morning sun was in her hair; her brown eyes were wide and bright. He did not want to spoil her by the story of his yesterday’s defeat, and so he passed it by with some facile excuses for his absence from the factory. "We’re late," he said, as he helped her into the Forbes motor-car. The chauffeur ran close to the speed-laws all the way to Manhattan. They reached their journey’s end immediately after the choir had taken its position in the chancel. The ritualistic church of St. Athanasius is one of the handsomest in New York. It was built in close imitation of Beverley Minster, and so elaborate was the work done upon it that, in spite of its wealthy congregation’s assistance, it still staggered under the load of a heavy debt. It has the Yorkshire building’s two Early English transepts, Perpendicular towers, and a Late Decorated nave with flying and pinnacled buttresses. Inside, as Luke and Betty entered it, the warmly-colored light fell through many Lancet windows on the crowd of fashionable worshipers kneeling before narrow chairs. Nicholson’s voice, coming from behind the choir-screen, sounded clear but far away. Luke and Betty walked up the nearest aisle and took the seats assigned to the Forbes family, close to the carved pulpit and under the triforium. The high arches were carried on clustered pillars, and, down the perspective of the nave, Luke could see into the choir, to the Decorated reredos, where, as in Beverley, the piers increased in size by successive groups of shafts that projected like corbels. He knelt beside her and tried to give his mind to the service; but his eyes, familiar though they were with the church, wandered to the north aisle’s windows and the ogee and foliated arcade under them, to the people in front of him, and so, inevitably, to the girl at his side. The service proceeded. The people said the Lord’s Prayer; Nicholson recited the collect, and then read the Ten Commandments of Moses, the congregation responding.