“No,” said Dr. Dayton, “but I would thrust myself between a rotten sheep and my wholesome flock, that may else become contaminated, even if, in doing so, that one sheep should be sacrificed.”
Again the bishop sat for a while in moody silence. He was turning a lead-pencil around and around between his fingers. “Very well,” he said, at last, “I shall appoint a committee, as you recommend. How would day after to-morrow do for them to meet?”
“At what time?”
“Well, say nine o’clock in the evening, here at the rectory.”
“Very well; that will suit me.”
After the visitor had gone, the bishop went straight to his wife and told her what he had heard about Martha Kettle.
“I don’t believe it,” said Mrs. Caiaphas, promptly.
“I am afraid it is true,” said the bishop.
“If it is,” said Mrs. Caiaphas, “I will never give her another stitch as long as I live.”