Henry  Roberts,  summoned  by  his  daughter  to
entertain  the  guest  until  supper  was  ready,  found
him  sitting  in  the  darkness  of  the  parlor;  the  old
man  was  full  of  hospitable  apologies  for  his  Phi-
lippa's  forge tfulness ;  "she  did  not  remember  the
lamp!"  he  lamented;  and  making  his  way  through
the  twilight  of  the  room,  he  took  off  the  prism-
hung  shade  of  the  tall  astral  lamp  on  the  center-
table,  and  fumbled  for  a  match  to  light  the  charred
and  sticky  wick;  there  were  very  few  occasions
in  this  plain  household  when  it  was  worth  while
to  light  the  best  lamp!  This  was  one  of  them,
for  in  those  days  the  office  dignified  the  man  to
a  degree  that  is  hardly  understood  now.  But
Henry  Roberts's  concern  was  not  entirely  a  mat
ter  of  social  propriety ;  it  was  a  desire  to  propitiate
this  young  man  who  was  living  in  certain  errors
of  belief,  so  that  he  would  be  in  a  friendly  attitude
of  mind  and  open  to  the  arguments  which  were


AROUND   OLD    CHESTER

always  burning  on  the  lips  of  Edward  Irving 's
follower.  He  did  not  mean  to  begin  them  until
they  were  at  supper;  so  he  and  John  Fenn  sat  in
silence  waiting  Philippa's  summons  to  the  dining-
room.  Neither  of  them  had  any  small  talk;  Mr.
Roberts  was  making  sure  that  he  could  trust  his
memory  to  repeat  those  wailing  cadences  of  the
Voice,  and  John  Fenn,  still  shaken  by  something
he  could  not  understand  that  had  been  hidden
in  what  he  understood  too  well — a  sinner's  indif
ference  to  grace — was  trying  to  get  back  to  his
serene,  impersonal  arrogance.
