Mr. Armstrong, as we have said, was in front of Miriam.  He had brought a small telescope to that point to be tested, for exactly eight miles away was a church-tower with a clock, and he wished to see if he could tell the time by it.  Miriam was about to avoid him, but he recognised her and beckoned to her.

“Ah!  Mrs. Farrow, is it you?  Would yon like to look through my glass?”

He adjusted it for her, and she saw the hour quite plainly.

“Oh,” she exclaimed, “that is wonderful!”

“Yes, it is pretty well.  We will now put him in his box.  For the box I have to thank Mr. Farrow.  He is one of the neatest hands at that kind of work I know, although it is not exactly his trade.  I never was much of a joiner.”

Miriam was a little surprised.  She knew that her husband was clever with his tools, but she had never set any value on his labours.  Now, however, she was really struck with the well-polished mahogany and the piece of brass neatly let into the lid, and when she heard Mr. Armstrong’s praises she began to think a little differently.

“Ah!” he continued, “it is so difficult now to get anybody to take any interest in such a job as that.  I have got another box at home made by a professed cabinetmaker, and it is really disgraceful.  It will never be right, although I have had it altered two or three times.  When it was shut it caught the object-glass inside.  I remedied that defect, but only to create a worse, for then the instrument shook about.  So it is, when once a thing is badly done, you had better get rid of it; it is of no use to bother with it.  You may depend upon it, it is not bad just here or there, but is bad all through, and the attempt to mend it serves no other purpose than to bring to light hidden weakness.  On the other hand, if you are fortunate enough to have work done like Mr. Farrow’s, it is perfect all through.  You can never surprise it, so to speak.  Just look at it.  Look at that green baize rest.  There is not the thirty-second part of an inch to spare on either side, and the lid comes down so evenly that you can hardly see where the edge is.  Shake the box, and you will not feel a single movement.  You have never seen my big telescope at Marston?”

“No.”

“Well, if you like, you can come over with your husband any bright night, and I shall be happy to show it to you.”

Miriam thanked him, and they parted.

A few days afterwards Mrs. and Mr. Farrow presented themselves at the vicarage.  It was a lovely evening, and so clear that the outline of the constellations was obscured by the multitude of small stars, which usually are not seen, or seen but imperfectly.  In the south was Jupiter, mild, magnificent, like a god amongst the crowd of lesser divinities.

Mr. Armstrong, with all the ardour of an enthusiast for his science, began a little preliminary lecture.