"Yes," said Regie, eagerly, his wan little face turning pink. "But mother?" he said, stopping short.
"Run and get your coat on. I will speak to mother. Quick, Regie."
Regie rushed curveting out of the room. The Bishop followed more slowly, and went into the drawing-room where Mr. and Mrs. Gresley were sitting by the fireless hearth. The drawing-room fire was never lit till two o'clock.
"Regie goes with me of his own free will," he said; "so that is settled. He will be quite safe with me, Mrs. Gresley."
"My wife demurs at sending him," said Mr. Gresley.
"No, no, she does not," said the Bishop, gently. "Hester saved Regie's life, and it is only right that Regie should save hers. You will come over this afternoon to take him back," he continued to Mr. Gresley. "I wish to have some conversation with you."
Fräulein appeared breathless, dragging Regie with her.
"He has not got on his new overcoat," said Mrs. Gresley. "Regie, run up and change at once."
Fräulein actually said, "Bozzer ze new coat," and she swept Regie into the carriage, the Bishop following, stumbling over the ruins of the porch.
"Have they had their hot mash?" he said to the coachman, who was tearing off the horses' clothing.