"The Bishop has been bothering me about you, Peacocke," he said, standing up with his back to the fireplace, as soon as the other man had shut the door behind him. The Doctor's face was always expressive of his inward feelings, and at this moment showed very plainly that his sympathies were not with the Bishop.
"I'm sorry that his lordship should have troubled himself," said the other, "as I certainly do not intend to take any part in his diocese."
"We'll sink that for the present," said the Doctor. "I won't let that be mixed up with what I have got to say just now. You have taken a certain part in the diocese already, very much to my satisfaction. I hope it may be continued; but I won't bother about that now. As far as I can see, you are just the man that would suit me as a colleague in the parish." Mr. Peacocke bowed, but remained silent. "The fact is," continued the Doctor, "that certain old women have got hold of the Bishop, and made him feel that he ought to answer their objections. That Mrs. Stantiloup has a tongue as loud as the town-crier's bell."
"But what has Mrs. Stantiloup to say about me?"
"Nothing, except in so far as she can hit me through you."
"And what does the Bishop say?"
"He thinks that I ought to know something of your life during those five years you were in America."
"I think so also," said Mr. Peacocke.
"I don't want to know anything for myself. As far as I am concerned, I am quite satisfied. I know where you were educated, how you were ordained, and I can feel sure, from your present efficiency, that you cannot have wasted your time. If you tell me that you do not wish to say anything, I shall be contented, and I shall tell the Bishop that, as far as I am concerned, there must be an end of it."
"And what will he do?" asked Mr. Peacocke.