The Bishop detected a shade of bitterness in the little laugh that escaped her lips.
"Is it difficult?" he asked kindly.
"I think you had better not ask me," said Rachel. Then unable to restrain her feelings, she added, "She just spoils everything, and I am so afraid of Luke finding it out; he is so devoted to her."
The Bishop was silent.
"The worst of it is," said Rachel, after a slight pause, "I can't talk it over with Luke, so there is a secret always between us. Don't you think it was horrid of her to tell people how incapable she thinks me? The result is that I can't help Luke in his work; people don't believe in me."
"How do you know this?"
"Someone let it out by mistake when she called," said Rachel. "There are always, I suppose, people like that in a place who talk more than they mean to. This person is a regular gossip, and I learnt more about the people in half an hour from her than I should have learnt in a year from Luke. Luke never tells me anything. I wish he would."
"No, I don't think you should wish that. A man who does not talk over his people is a man to be trusted with the secrets of their souls. That is just the one disadvantage in my eyes of a man being married. It is difficult for some wives to tolerate their husbands not telling them what should be kept sacred. For every other reason I am a great advocate of married clergy. A wife may be of the very greatest help to a man. But in order to be so she must be a woman of high ideals, and one who understands what is due to his position. But my dear child, why did not you try to turn the conversation of this parishioner? Take my advice and don't listen to criticisms of yourself."
"I am not sure that I have high ideals," said Rachel with a little laugh, "but I'm afraid I do like being appreciated. I am sure the people as a whole don't like me, and I can't think why."
The Bishop laughed.