'In that case I should like some conversation with you. Can you take me to a more private place?'
'The little parlour, my lord; this way, please,' and Bell, reassured by her visitor's kindly manner, conducted him into her father's private snuggery at the back of the bar. Here she placed a chair for the bishop, and waited anxiously to hear if he came to scold or praise. Dr Pendle came to the point at once.
'I presume you know who I am, Miss Mosk?' he said quietly.
'Oh, yes, sir; the Bishop of Beorminster.'
'Quite so; but I am here less as the bishop than as Gabriel's father.'
'Yes,' whispered Bell, and stole a frightened look at the speaker's face.
'There is no need to be alarmed,' said Dr Pendle, encouragingly. 'I do not come here to scold you.'
'I hope not, my lord!' said Miss Mosk, recovering herself a trifle, 'as I have done nothing to be scolded for. If I am in love with Gabriel, and he with me, 'tis only human nature, and as such can't be run down.'
'That entirely depends upon the point of view which is taken,' observed the bishop, mildly. 'For instance, I have a right to be annoyed that my son should engage himself to you without consulting me.'
Bell produced a foolish little lace handkerchief. 'Of course, I know I ain't a lady, sir,' said she, tearfully. 'But I do love Gabriel, and I'm sure I'll do my best to make him happy.'