He entered a room in which for the moment he could see nothing but a central glare of dazzling light beating down from a great shaded lamp upon a circular patch of white table linen.  Inside this ring of illumination points of fire sparkled from silver and porcelain, and two bars of burning crimson tracked across the cloth in reflection from tall glasses filled with wine.  The rest of the room was vague darkness; but the gloom seemed saturated with novel aromatic odors, the appetizing scent of which bore clear relation to what Theron’s blinking eyes rested upon.

He was able now to discern two figures at the table, outside the glowing circle of the lamp.  They had both risen, and one came toward him with cordial celerity, holding out a white plump hand in greeting.  He took this proffered hand rather limply, not wholly sure in the half-light that this really was Father Forbes, and began once more that everlasting apology to which he seemed doomed in the presence of the priest.  It was broken abruptly off by the other’s protesting laughter.

“My dear Mr. Ware, I beg of you,” the priest urged, chuckling with hospitable mirth, “don’t, don’t apologize!  I give you my word, nothing in the world could have pleased us better than your joining us here tonight.  It was quite dramatic, your coming in as you did.  We were speaking of you at that very moment.  Oh, I forgot—­let me make you acquainted with my friend—­my very particular friend, Dr. Ledsmar.  Let me take your hat; pray draw up a chair.  Maggie will have a place laid for you in a minute.”

“Oh, I assure you—­I couldn’t think of it—­I’ve just eaten my—­my—­dinner,” expostulated Theron.  He murmured more inarticulate remonstrances a moment later, when the grim old domestic appeared with plates, serviette, and tableware for his use, but she went on spreading them before him as if she heard nothing.  Thus committed against a decent show of resistance, the young minister did eat a little here and there of what was set before him, and was human enough to regret frankly that he could not eat more.  It seemed to him very remarkable cookery, transfiguring so simple a thing as a steak, for example, quite out of recognition, and investing the humble potato with a charm he had never dreamed of.  He wondered from time to time if it would be polite to ask how the potatoes were cooked, so that he might tell Alice.

The conversation at the table was not continuous, or even enlivened.  After the lapses into silence became marked, Theron began to suspect that his refusal to drink wine had annoyed them—­the more so as he had drenched a large section of table-cloth in his efforts to manipulate a siphon instead.  He was greatly relieved, therefore, when Father Forbes explained in an incidental way that Dr. Ledsmar and he customarily ate their meals almost without a word.

“It’s a philosophic fad of his,” the priest went on smilingly, “and I have fallen in with it for the sake of a quiet life; so that when we do have company—­that is to say, once in a blue moon—­we display no manners to speak of.”