“I will leave this with you,” he said, “when I go.  It sets out our desires at length and our names.  And this is what I have to say, sir.”

He sat back, crossed his legs, and went on, with a touch of eagerness in his voice.

“I am a kind of deputation, as you know,” he said.  “We have something both to ask and to offer.  I am chosen because it was my own idea.  First, may I ask a question?”

Oliver bowed.

“I wish to ask nothing that I ought not.  But I believe it is practically certain, is it not?—­that Divine Worship is to be restored throughout the kingdom?”

Oliver smiled.

“I suppose so,” he said.  “The bill has been read for the third time, and, as you know, the President is to speak upon it this evening.”

“He will not veto it?”

“We suppose not.  He has assented to it in Germany.”

“Just so,” said Mr. Francis.  “And if he assents here, I suppose it will become law immediately.”

Oliver leaned over this table, and drew out the green paper that contained the Bill.

“You have this, of course—–­” he said.  “Well, it becomes law at once; and the first feast will be observed on the first of October.  ‘Paternity,’ is it not?  Yes, Paternity.”

“There will be something of a rush then,” said the other eagerly.  “Why, that is only a week hence.”

“I have not charge of this department,” said Oliver, laying back the Bill.  “But I understand that the ritual will be that already in use in Germany.  There is no reason why we should be peculiar.”

“And the Abbey will be used?”

“Why, yes.”

“Well, sir,” said Mr. Francis, “of course I know the Government Commission has studied it all very closely, and no doubt has its own plans.  But it appears to me that they will want all the experience they can get.”

“No doubt.”

“Well, Mr. Brand, the society which I represent consists entirely of men who were once Catholic priests.  We number about two hundred in London.  I will leave a pamphlet with you, if I may, stating our objects, our constitution, and so on.  It seemed to us that here was a matter in which our past experience might be of service to the Government.  Catholic ceremonies, as you know, are very intricate, and some of us studied them very deeply in old days.  We used to say that Masters of Ceremonies were born, not made, and we have a fair number of those amongst us.  But indeed every priest is something of a ceremonialist.”

He paused.

“Yes, Mr. Francis?”

“I am sure the Government realises the immense importance of all going smoothly.  If Divine Service was at all grotesque or disorderly, it would largely defeat its own object.  So I have been deputed to see you, Mr. Brand, and to suggest to you that here is a body of men—­reckon it as at least twenty-five—­who have had special experience in this kind of thing, and are perfectly ready to put themselves at the disposal of the Government.”