"If I correctly interpret you, you are offering to me, who will be no man's pensioner, who will accept no man's gifts, a gift, a pension——"
"No," the cardinal very mildly interjected: "but restitution."
"Oh!" George ejaculated, suddenly sitting down, and staring like the martyr who, while yet the pagan pincers were at work upon his tenderest internals, beheld the angel-bearers of his amaranthine coronal.
"Amends and restitution," the cardinal repeated.
"What am I to say?" George addressed his cat and the bishop.
"You are simply to say in what form you will accept this act of justice from us," the cardinal responded, taking the question to himself.
"Oh, I must have time to think. You must afford me time to think."
"No, George," said the bishop: "take no time at all. Speak your mind now. Do make an effort to believe that we are sincerely in earnest; and that in this matter we are in your hands. I may say that, Yrmnts?" he inquired.
"Certainly: we place ourselves in Mr. Rose's hands—unreservedly—ha!" the cardinal affirmed, and gasped with the exertion.