The Verger

There  had  been  a  christening  that  afternoon.

At  St.  Peter's  Church  and  Albert  Edward.

Foreman  still  wore  his  verger's  gown.

He  kept  his  new  gown  for  funerals  and  weddings.

Saint  Peter's  Neville  Square  was  a  church.

Often  chosen  by  fashionable  people  for  these  ceremonies,  and  now  he  wore  only  his  second  best.

He  wore  it  with  pride,  for  it.

Was  the  symbol  of  his  office.  He  took  pains  with  it.  He  pressed  it  and  ironed  it  himself.  During  the  16  years  that  he  had  been  verger  of  this  church  he  had  had  a  number  of  such  gowns,  but  he  had  never  been  able  to  throw  them  away  when  they  were  worn  out.  And  all  of  them  neatly  wrapped  up.

In  brown  paper,  lay  in  the  bottom  drawer  of  the  wardrobe  in  his  bedroom.  The  verger  was  waiting  for  the  vicar  to  have  finished  in  the  vestry  so.

That  he  could  tidy  up  in  there  and  go  home.  What's  he  aiming  about  for?

The  verger  said  to  himself.

Doesn't  he  know  I  want  my  tea?  The  vicar  had  been  appointed  only  recently,  a  red  faced,  energetic  man  in  the  early  forty  s  and  Albert  Edward  still.

Regretted  the  last  vicar,  a  clergyman  of.

The  old  school,  who  never  fussed  and  was  not  like  this  new  man,  who  wanted  to  have  his  finger  in  every  pie.

Presently  he  saw  the  vicar  coming  up.  Foreman,  will  you  come  into  the  vestry  for  a  minute?

I  have  something  to  say  to  you.

Very  good,  sir.  They  walked  up  the  church  together  and  the  vicar  preceded  Albert  Edward  into  the  vestry.  Albert  Edward  was  a  trifle  surprise  to  find  the  two  church  wardens  there.

He  had  not  seen  them  come  in.  They  gave  him  pleasant  nods.  Good  afternoon,  my  lord.  Good  afternoon,  my  lord.  Good  afternoon,  sir,  he  said  to  one  after  the  other.

They  were  elderly  men,  both  of  them.

And  they  had  been  church  wardens  almost.

As  long  as  Albert  Edward  had  been  verger.

They  were  sitting  now  at  a  handsome.

Table  that  the  old  vicar  had  brought  many  years  before  from  Italy  and  the.

Vicar  sat  down  in  the  vacant  chair  between  them.

Albert  Edward  faced  them  the  table  between.

Him  and  them,  and  wondered  with  slight  uneasiness  what  was  the  matter.  He  remembered  still  the  occasion  on  which  the  organist  had  gotten  to  trouble  and.

How  difficult  it  was  to  hush  things  up  in  a  church  like  St  Peter's  Neville  Square  they  couldn't  afford  a  scandal.  On  the  vicar's  red  face  was  a.

Look  of  resolute  kindness,  but  the  others  had  an  expression  that  was  slightly  troubled.  He's  been  trying  to  make  them  do.

Something,  but  they  don't  like  it,  said  the  or  to  himself.

That's  what  it  is.  You  mark  my  words.