"You may enjoy the leg of the chicken with a clear conscience, my girl," said the Bishop, "for I feel sure your Mistress would not be able to eat it to-day. There's milk I suppose?"
"Yes Sir, there's baby's milk," said Polly doubtfully, "but I don't think Mistress would like me to touch that. She's very particular about his milk."
"Well I want you to run round to the grocer's and buy for me a bottle of bovril. Run as fast as you can and I'll tell you how to make it. Where is the Baby?"
Polly put her finger up and listened.
"I do believe he's just awake," she said. "I'll bring him down if you'd be so kind as to look after him while I go to the Grocer's."
The Bishop carried the baby into the drawing-room and laid him on Rachel's lap.
"That will do you good," he said smiling at her.
The sight of her baby in the Bishop's arms brought the happy colour into Rachel's face.
"He doesn't know what a privilege he has just had," she said laughing. Then she looked down at the child, "I do hope he will be a good man like his father," she murmured.
"So thank God, she still loves her absentminded husband as much as ever!" thought the Bishop, but he felt he could have shaken him. To possess such a treasure and not take more care of her was in his opinion reprehensible in the extreme. They were a blind pair! He to her lovely self-forgetfulness, and she to his absentmindedness. Well, he was thankful that she was still devoted to him.