I paused, with my eyes fixed upon his. "Very true, my young sir; and when we do we are ashamed, and repent of them afterwards," replied the bishop, rather astonished.
"I grant that, sir," replied I, "but at the same time, we must feel that we must abide by the results, however unpleasant."
"When we do wrong, Mr Newland," replied the bishop, first looking at my card, and then upon me, "we find that we are not only to be punished in the next world, but suffer for it also in this. I trust you have no reason for such suffering?"
"Unfortunately, the sins of the fathers are visited upon the children, and, in that view, I may say that I have suffered."
"My dear sir," replied the bishop, "I trust you will excuse me, when I say, that my time is rather valuable; if you have anything of importance to communicate—anything upon which you would ask my advice—for assistance you do not appear to require, do me the favour to proceed at once to the point."
"I will, sir, be as concise as the matter will admit of. Allow me, then, to ask you a few questions, and I trust to your honour, and the dignity of your profession, for a candid answer. Did you not marry a young woman early in life? and were you not very much pressed in your circumstances?"
The bishop stared. "Really, Mr Newland, it is a strange question, and I cannot imagine to what it may lead, but still I will answer it. I did marry early in life, and I was, at that time, not in very affluent circumstances."
"You had a child by that marriage—your eldest born—a boy!"
"That is also true, Mr Newland," replied the bishop, gravely.
"How long is it since you have seen him?"