Both bowed impressively, and a deep, well-trained, manly voice answered:
"I assure you it is a pleasant surprise to find myself numbered among those so fortunate as to claim Miss Lindsay's acquaintance."
The cold grey eyes looked steadily at Devota, but his face evinced no more pleasure than the granite gargoyle on the roof.
"It is my privilege to remember that a great many years ago, when quite young, I met your Excellency, but certainly I have no right to expect that after the long lapse of time any recognition could occur."
"You are very gracious to recall a casual incident of 'auld lang syne' that I dared not flatter myself you cared to remember; but that you have not entirely forgotten it is as unexpected as it is complimentary."
The eyes of each probed deep, but neither flinched, and as Mrs. Churchill arched her brows and pinched her husband's arm, Devota smiled, and turning away held out her hand to Bishop Roscoe.
"My dear Miss Lindsay, I am glad to have an opportunity to wish you Godspeed on the long tour you contemplate. When do you sail?"
"At dawn, day after to-morrow."
Mrs. Churchill's fan tapped the Bishop's wrist.
"It is your duty to lecture her soundly on her descent into the Bohemian ranks of roaming 'bachelor girls,' who, running after tinsel kites they call 'careers,' turn their backs on all home duties, forsake every form of genuine feminine domesticity, cast family ties to the winds and herd in tenements, boat-houses and mountain camps. Professional female tramps!"