"Oh, how jolly that'll be--for Miss Matilda!" said the artful Violet.
"Humph!--ye-es," replied the Bishop. "I hardly think my sister could leave the palace just at this time."
"Perhaps," suggested his guest, "yachting doesn't agree with her. Has she ever tried it before?"
"She has," replied the Bishop, with a certain asperity.
"Ah, poor thing!" said Miss Arminster. "It must have taken away from your pleasure to feel that she was suffering such great discomfort on your account."
"Lord Downton didn't specify my sister. He only said 'some lady'; and so I thought if you--"
"Oh, that's just sweet of you!" exclaimed his companion. "I'm sure I should adore yachting. It's something I've always wanted to do."
"Then we'll consider it settled," said the Bishop.
"Ah, yes," admitted his Lordship. "That's just the trouble. You see my dilemma."
"Of course!" Violet responded promptly, understanding that he wished to be helped out. "If your sister knew you were going, she'd feel it her duty to accompany you, and the trip would be spoilt for you by her sufferings. So, out of your affection for her, you think it would be better if we were just quietly to slip off to-morrow and send her a wire from Dullhampton."
The Bishop was delighted. Miss Matilda never accepted him at his own valuation.
"So, just on your account," continued his companion demurely, "I won't say a word, though I hate any form of concealment."
"But since it's for your dear sister's sake--"
"We'll take the eleven-fifty train to-morrow," replied his Lordship.
And here his remarks were cut short from the fact that in suddenly rounding a corner he had planted his foot on the recumbent form of Marchmont.
"Hullo!" said that gentleman, sitting up, and adding, as he rubbed his eyes to get them wider open, "permit me to inform you that this part of the ground is strictly preserved."
"Come," said the stranger cheerfully, "we'll make a bargain. I'll tell you who you are, if you'll tell me who I am."
"I do not see how that is possible--" began his Lordship.
"Well, I'll begin," said Marchmont. "You're the Bishop of Blanford and I'm your son's greatest benefactor."
"Really, you surprise me. May I enquire how you've benefited him?"
"I made the fame of his book, 'The Purple Kangaroo.' I've been sending you my editorials on the subject for some weeks past."