Just as he was closing the door Betty flew after him.
"Oh, Mr. Merle, I am so happy! I congratulate you with all my heart."
She clasped his hand impulsively with such sweetness and genuineness that the good man's confusion was made more complete, if that were possible.
"Thank you, Miss Thompson—thank you. Please don't say any more. I—I must go. I—must tell my wife."
Horatio hastened away, his eyes shining with tears of joy.
And now there came a bad quarter of an hour for Elizabeth Thompson. It was evidently her duty to tell the bishop immediately, without losing a moment, about the stolen money. This was her opportunity to tell him; she was alone with him and—she must tell him. And yet she could not speak. She had promised Hester Storm to say nothing until after Grimes had gone. She had promised faithfully, and—for the moment her lips were sealed.
"Bishop," she began, and in her eyes there was the shadow of impending trouble.
"Yes, my dear. Sit down." He made room for her beside him on the davenport.
"There's something I've wanted to speak to you about—that is——"
"I understand, my dear," he anticipated. "You have reference to that unfortunate affair on the train? You know I came here to-day for the express purpose of—er—that is to say, I shall be glad to obtain, in fact, the detective urged me to get from you, any information you can give regarding that painful occurrence."