"One of those new ropy girls—all shoulders and feet, you know. No spine, and straight hair drawn down over her ears. Like a French fashion-plate with all the Frenchness left out."
"I observe there are no half-measures here," the Bishop gave a little chuckle. "I had no idea of the harassing details involved in an effort of charity. It's for some hospital, is it not?"
Mrs. Cadell supplied the name.
"We hope to clear off part of the debt. Since the Insurance Act was passed the subscriptions have decreased. So seriously in fact they talk of closing down a ward."
"Indeed?" The Bishop, nervously, evaded the lead into politics.
"Talking of financial losses——" he went on somewhat hurriedly—"reminds me of my morning's work. I'm afraid the ways of the City are quite beyond my understanding."
He sighed as he helped himself to curry.
Mrs. Cadell, to fill the pause, remarked that McTaggart was on the Stock Exchange.
"Really?" The Bishop looked up quickly. "Then, perhaps, he can relieve my mind on the question that is puzzling me."
Into the younger man's blue eyes came a shrewd look of attention. Inwardly he was summing up the possibility of a client.