"Isn't there any more than that?" she said. "I wanted three volumes at least."
The Bishop beamed with gratification.
"I trust," he replied, "that they'll be worthy of your attention. But my treatment of the subject is—er—slightly doctrinal, and perhaps you're not a member of the Church of England."
"Well, no," said Mrs. Mackintosh. "I can't say as I am. I was baptised a Methodist, brought up in a Roman Catholic convent, finished at a Presbyterian boarding-school, and married before a Justice of the Peace to a Unitarian, and since I've been a widow I've attended a Baptist church regularly; but I don't believe I'd mind a few weeks of an Episcopalian, specially seeing he's a Bishop, which I haven't experienced before."
"I shall endeavour to do my best, madam," said his Lordship. "Perhaps I may even lead you—in time—"
"Well, I shouldn't be surprised but what you might," replied Mrs. Mackintosh, "but I mustn't take up all your time. I want you to know my little friend Miss Arminster. She's one of the nicest girls that ever was."
"I shall be delighted," said his Lordship. "Arminster," he continued reflectively. "Does she come from the Arminsters of Shropshire?"
Mrs. Mackintosh laughed.
"I'm sure I don't know," she replied, "but from the way her friends speak of her, you'd think she came from Noah's Ark."
"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "That's very curious."