(There was now a railway within a few miles of Llanfawr.)
'Then I will be going home to get ready. You was seure to come, Mr Rowlands?'
'Sure, if nothing unforeseen prevents me.'
At this point of the conversation, Mr Prothero entered the parlour, leading Minette, who had two letters in her hand.
'Here are two letters for you, Uncle Rowland,' said the child. 'Grandfather says one must be from a bishop. What's a bishop, uncle? Oh, Grandma Jenkins!'
Minette gave the letters to Rowland, and then went to kiss her grandmother, who began to cry when she saw her. Mr Prothero suppressed a very equivocal question concerning the reason of her again appearing at Glanyravon, and said,—
'How d'ye do, Mrs Griffey?'
Rowland opened his letters. One was from Mr Jones, the other, as Minette said, was from a bishop—the Bishop of London. He read Mr Jones' first, and turned more than usually red as he did so. He uttered an exclamation of surprise when he finished reading it, and put it into his father's hands.
He then read the second letter. It was short. He got up, sat down, got up again, gave the letter to his father, and said,—
'It is too much! I do not deserve it! I wish it were Jones instead of me. He is much better—more suited—married. I cannot believe it!'