Then he
breathed into his open hand held up against his face--as he had once
seen an undergraduate do at Oxford--but he could detect no perfume
of the wine in his breath. Possibly it would be all right. And he
was looking forward so intensely to meeting the bishop. He felt that
he would be able to convince him of the need for his little
alterations.
Once again he looked into the cup. Then he finished the wine at a
draught--elbow tilted at an angle on a level with his head--and
hurriedly put the chalice away.
It was done now. And he felt quite all right. He began to take off
his surplice, and when he trod on the end of it and stumbled a little,
it seemed quite a natural accident. He smiled--laughed even, but very
gently--at the fears he had entertained. Evidently he must have a
very good head to be able to take so much wine. His hat dropped from
his hand as he was raising it to his head; but that was nothing. It
was quite a simple thing to stoop and pick it up again. If a man were
intoxicated he could not do that. He would probably fall. Mr. Bishop
only knocked his elbow against the vestry table as he stood upright.
He looked round the room. Was everything put away? What a delightful
service that was at morning prayer on Easter day.
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