the rector. "We are always glad to see you in court, Mr. Farrar."
"The court-room is an extremely interesting place," replied the clergyman.
"More interesting than profitable, if one is a litigant," remarked Mr. Malleson. "I suppose, when the millennium comes, there will be no more litigation, Mr. Farrar?"
"No," replied the clergyman. "The voice of the lawyer will no longer be heard in the land, and we shall have a thousand years of peace."
Barry laughed, but the others only smiled.
"That's one on me," said Westgate. "Are you going our way, Mr. Farrar? Will you come along with us?"
"No," replied the clergyman, "thank you! I want to stop and speak to Mrs. Bradley. A little consolation might not come amiss. She must be suffering severely from disappointment."
"Good idea!" broke in Barry. "The woman is certainly to be pitied. No doubt she's the victim of bad advice. I've a great mind to stop and talk to her myself, and explain the law to her, and the attitude of our company in the matter. It may be that she's entirely ignorant and innocent."
"Don't fool yourself, Barry," said Westgate. "She's no weakling. I know. She may possibly accept condolence from Mr. Farrar, but I'm mighty certain she won't accept it from you."
"There's no harm in trying, is there?" persisted Barry. "It would be extremely interesting and informing to hear the woman talk."
Mr. Malleson turned to his son.
"You let Mrs. Bradley alone," he said. "When she comes to her senses about this thing, and dismisses her shyster lawyer, we may do something for her; not as a matter of right, but as a matter of grace."
"Certainly!" replied Barry, "as a matter of grace.
