There was silence a moment. Then Dornal said:
"How will it all affect the trial?"
"In the Court of Arches? Technically of course—not at all. But it will make all the difference to the atmosphere in which it is conducted. One can imagine how certain persons are already gloating over it—what use they will make of it—how they will magnify and embroider everything. And such an odious story! It is the degradation of a great issue!"
The little Bishop frowned. As he sat there in the dignity of his great library, so scrupulously refined and correct in every detail of dress, yet without a touch of foppery, the gleam of the cross on his breast answering the silver of the hair and the frank purity of the eyes, it was evident that he felt a passionate impatience—half moral, half esthetic—toward these new elements of the Meynell case. It was the fastidious impatience of a man for whom personal gossip and scandal ranked among the forbidden indulgences of life. "Things, not persons!" had been the time-honoured rule for conversation at the Palace table—persons, that is, of the present day. In those happy persons who had already passed into biography and history, in their peccadilloes no less than their virtues, the Bishop's interest was boundless. The distinction tended to make him a little super- or infra-human; but it enhanced the fragrance and delicacy of his personality.
Dornal was no less free from any stain of mean or scandalous gossip than the Bishop, but his knowledge of the human heart was far deeper, his sympathy far more intimate. It was not only that he scorned the slander, but, hour by hour, he seemed to walk in the same cloud with Meynell.
After some further discussion, the Bishop took up Barron's letter again. "I see there is likely to be a most painful scene at the Church Council meeting—which of course will be also one of their campaign meetings—the day after to-morrow. Barron declares that he means to challenge Meynell publicly to vindicate his character. Can I do anything?"
Dornal did not see anything could be done. The parish was already in open rebellion.
"It is a miserable, miserable business!" said the Bishop unhappily. "How can I get a report of the meeting—from some one else than Barron?"
"Mr. Flaxman is sure to be there?"
"Ah!—get him to write to me?"