For Ashe appeared, hurrying over the lawn, and Lord Parham rose to greet his host.
"Upon my word, Ashe, how well you look! You have had some holiday!"
"Which is more than can be said of yourself," said Ashe, with smiling sympathy. "Well!—how have the speeches gone? Is there anything left of you? Edinburgh was magnificent!"
He wore his most radiant aspect as he sat down beside his guest; and Kitty watching him, and already conscious of a renewed and excitable dislike for her guest, thought William was overdoing it absurdly, and grew still more restive.
The Premier brought the tips of his fingers lightly together, as he resumed his seat.
"Oh! my dear fellow, people were very kind—too much so! Yes—I think it did good—it did good. I should now rest and be thankful—if it weren't for the Bishops!"
"The Bishops!" said the Rector of the parish standing near. "What have the Bishops been doing, my lord?"
"Dying," said Kitty, as she fell into an attitude which commanded both William and Lord Parham. "They do it on purpose."
"Another this morning!" said Ashe, throwing up his hands.
"Oh! they die to plague me," said the Prime Minister, with the air of one on whom the universe weighs heavy. "There never was such a conspiracy!"