"I never thought they would come.

Dear me! Sir Philip Errington himself, too! I must have refreshments instantly." And he hurried from the room, calling his orders to Ulrika as he went, and before the visitors had time to ring, he had thrown open the door to them himself, and stood smiling urbanely on the threshold, welcoming them with enthusiasm,--and assuring Sir Philip especially how much honored he felt, by his thus visiting, familiarly and unannounced, his humble dwelling.

Errington waved his many compliments good-humoredly aside, and allowed himself and his friends to be marshalled into the best parlor, the drawing-room of the house, a pretty little apartment whose window looked out upon a tangled yet graceful wilderness of flowers.
"Nice, cosy place this," remarked Lorimer, as he seated himself negligently on the arm of the sofa.

"You must be pretty comfortable here ?" Their perspiring and affable host rubbed his soft white hands together gently.
"I thank Heaven it suits my simple needs," he answered meekly.

"Luxuries do not become a poor servant of God." "Ah, then you are different to many others who profess to serve the same Master," said Duprez with a _sourire fin_ that had the devil's own mockery in it.