"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."
"Who are you, sir?" demanded the Bishop.
"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."