"My lord," he said, "there is a gentleman waiting in the morning-room. He desires to see you upon a most important matter. I told the gentleman that your lordship was probably engaged, but he would not be denied."
"I cannot see anybody," the bishop replied, rather irritably. "Take the card to the chaplain."
"I beg your lordship's pardon," said the butler, "but I think this is a gentleman whom your lordship would wish to see."
The bishop pulled out his single eye-glass—he was the only prelate upon the bench who wore one—and looked at the card upon the tray.
"Good gracious!" he said, with a sudden sharpness in his voice. "This fellow! How dare——"
"Who has come to see you?" Lord Hayle asked.
The bishop's face was flushed. There was indignation in his voice, contempt in his eyes, and angry irritation in his pose.
"Look here, Gerald!" he said, taking the card and holding it out to his son in answer. "Who do you suppose has come to see me? Look!"
Lord Hayle took up the card.