Prentice Hugh - Frances Mary Peard

“Ay?”

“Couldst not carve a Saint Margaret as well as a Saint Cecilia? Prithee—”

But here his request was broken off by a message that the Lord Bishop would speak with Hugh Bassett.

Bishop Bitton, who had aged fast of late, was leaning on the arm of one of his priests, but his face was lit with that fire of enthusiasm which could always be stirred in him by aught that was good or great. As Hugh came up, he raised his hand, and the young man dropped on his knee to receive the blessing.

And as, deeply moved, he rose and stood on one side, it seemed to him that his father’s dying voice stole softly upon his ears—

“Not for thyself, but for the glory of God.”