He declared he had quite forgotten me."
"I expect he had. Mr. Carlyon plays the organ so beautifully"--
Elizabeth was addressing Malcolm now. "My sister and I often go into
the church to listen to him."
"It must be a great resource," he returned regretfully, "and I am
inclined to envy Carlyon. I am passionately fond of music myself,
but the power of expression has been denied me."
"I would back David against most organists," went on Cedric. "Well,
as I was pretty much used up by my exertions, he proposed we should
go into the vicarage garden and help ourselves to fruit. The
greengages were ripe and so were the mulberries, and you bet I did
not need pressing."
"Mrs. Finch saw us from the porch room, and sent us out some cider
and home-make cake, so we had a rattling good feed. David said he
was in a loafing mood, and would not hear of my hurrying away."
"Mr. Carlyon does not seem overworked," remarked Malcolm; but he
regretted his speech when he saw Elizabeth's heightened colour.
"Thursday is a slack day with him," she said rather gravely. "I
assure you he works harder than most clergymen, and is very
conscientious and painstaking.
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