I wondered she didn't say "my Church," and have done with it: but I hadn't the heart to chaff her as I used to do in those happy bygone days, ages ago, before ever the Wildacres came to Restham: so I let it pass.
"I expect I shall put the matter into the Bishop's hands," I said: "I don't feel competent to select a spiritual pastor for Restham or anywhere else."
"You selected Mr. Blathwayte, and he has been a great success. It is a pity to get into the habit of thinking you can't do anything, Reggie, because you really do some things extremely well."
"But not the things I care about," I added bitterly, "And in this case I haven't another Arthur up my sleeve."
"The Bishop may have one," suggested Annabel encouragingly.
"Probably. He certainly has more room up his sleeve than I have. I wonder if that was the origin of Bishops having such large sleeves—because they had always got something up them."
Annabel was as literal as ever. "I don't think so, Reggie; I really don't know the origin of Bishops having those full sleeves. I know when it was the fashion for ladies to have large sleeves they were called 'Bishops' sleeves' after the Bishops; but why the Bishops originally had them I haven't a notion. I must try to find out. It is so interesting and instructive to learn the reason and the origin of things like that. But Deans don't have large sleeves, do they?" she added, her wandering thoughts turning once more Arthurwards.
"No; but they have beautiful arrangements about the legs—aprons and breeches and gaiters, and goodness knows what! They are Bishops below the waist and men above it, like the Centaurs, don't you know?"
"But the Centaurs were half horses—not half Bishops, Reggie."
"I know: but the principle is the same."