With an inquiring look at Dion she went out of the room.

Before she came back Mr. Thrush had told Dion all his hopes and fears with regard to the Dean, and had dwelt on his overwhelming desire to become a verger.  Quite unself-conscious in his simplicity he rose almost to dignity.  He frankly confessed his “failing,” and alluded to the taking of the modified pledge.

“We took it together, sir, your kind lady and I, we both pledged ourselves never to touch a drop of liquor between meals whatever the occasion.”

“Quite right!” said Dion, with firmness, almost with bruskness.

“I’m glad you think so, sir.  But a verger can’t be too careful.  He’s held up as an example to the whole city by his position, walking so often in procession as he does before the eyes of all men.  Even a chemist scarcely takes so much upon himself.  In respect of the body he may, I’ll allow you,—­for no verger has to do with prussic acid, iodine, cascara and all such-like,—­but in respect of what I might all the uplifting of the soul not a doubt of it but that the verger comes far before any chemist.  It’s a solemn thing to think of, and I hope, if so be as I’m elected, I shall be worthy of the position.  I see Mr. Dean to-morrow, sir, at eleven o’clock.  I trust I shall make a favorable impression.  I lived just off Hanover Square for more years than some can remember, and that, I hope, with a Very Reverend will tell in my favor.  None of them vergers here, though I’m sure they’re a splendid body of men,—­any one who has seen them walking before his Lordship, the Bishop, the Canons and what not, as I did last Sunday morning, would say the same,—­but none of the vergers here can say as much.  I’ve made inquiry, but of course with all discretion.  As to the duties, sir, I think I can fulfil them.  The carrying of the wand I may say I am almost perfect in already.  I’ve been at it in the garden with your kind good lady since I came.  I found it a bit difficult at first, sir.  There’s what you might call a knack to it, though from the congregation it looks simple enough.  But there, what does a congregation know of the things a verger has to master any more than it does of what is required of a good chemist?  Often and often when I was just off Hanover Square——­”

He was still flowing on with imperturbable volubility when Rosamund came back and sent another, more inquiring, glance to Dion.

When Mr. Thrush had retired she at once said anxiously: 

“Well?”

“He’s a nice old chap.”

“Yes, isn’t he?  But what did you really think?”

“About the nose?”

“Yes.”

“The lamp was turned rather low, but I really believe the modified pledge has—­”

“There!  What did I say?” she interrupted triumphantly.  “I knew you’d notice the difference.  It’s really very much like yours or mine now, and I’m sure—­”

But here Dion broke in decisively.