Harry waited for a little, and then he stole out of the room. He told the nurse to take his place, and went downstairs. It was four o'clock, and he was going to tea at the Bethels'. He had been there pretty frequently during the past week--that and the Cove were his only courts of welcome. He knew that his going there had only aggravated his offences in the eyes of his sister, but that he could not help. Why should they dictate his friends to him? The little drawing-room was neat and clean. There were some flowers, and the chairs and sofa were not littered with books and needlework and strange fragments of feminine garments. Mrs. Bethel was gorgeous in a green silk dress and the paint was more obtrusive than ever. Her eyes were red as though she had been crying, and her hair as usual had escaped bounds. Mary was making tea and smiled up at him. "Shout at father," she said. "He's downstairs in the study, browsing. He'll come up when he knows you are here." Harry went to the head of the stairs and called, and Bethel came rushing up. Sunday made no difference to his clothes, and he wore the grey suit and flannel collar of their first meeting. His greeting was, as ever, boisterous. "Hullo! Trojan! that's splendid! I was afraid they'd carry you off to that church of yours or you'd have a tea-party or something. I'm glad they've spared you." "No, I went this morning," Harry answered, "all of us solemnly in the family coach. I thought that was enough for one day." "We used to have a carriage when papa was alive," said Mrs. Bethel, "and we drove to church every Sunday. We were the only people beside the Porsons, and theirs was only a pony-cart." "Well, for my part, I hate driving," said Mary. "It puts you in a bad temper for the sermon." "Let's have tea," said Bethel. "I'm as hungry as though I'd listened to fifty parsons." And, indeed, he always was. He ate as though he had had no meal for a month at least, and he had utterly demolished the tea-cake before he realised that no one else had had any. "Oh, I say, I'm so sorry," he said ruefully. "Mary, why didn't you tell me? I'll never forgive myself----" and proceeded to finish the saffron buns. "All the same," said Mary, "we're going to church to-night, all of us, and if you're very good, Mr. Trojan, you shall come too." Harry paused for a moment. "I shall be delighted," he said; "but where do you go?" "There's a little church called St. Sennan's. You haven't heard of it, probably. It's past the Cove--on a hill looking over the sea. It's the most tumble-down old place you ever saw, and nobody goes there except a few fishermen, but we know the clergyman and like him. I like the place too--you can listen to the sea if you're bored with the sermon." "The parson is like one of the prophets," said Bethel. "Too strong for the Pendragon point of view. It's a place of ruins, Trojan, and the congregation are like a crowd of ancient Britons--but you'll like it."