The bishop seized Augustine's hand.
'My boy,' he said in a broken voice, 'you shall do more than call at the Palace. You shall come and live at the Palace. Become my secretary, Mulliner, and name your own salary. If you intend to marry, you will require an increased stipend. Become my secretary, boy, and never leave my side. I have needed somebody like you for years.'
It was late in the afternoon when Augustine returned to his rooms, for he had been invited to lunch at the vicarage and had been the life and soul of the cheery little party.
'A letter for you, sir,' said Mrs Wardle, obsequiously.
Augustine took the letter.
'I am sorry to say I shall be leaving you shortly, Mrs Wardle.'
'Oh, sir! If there's anything I can do—'
'Oh, it's not that. The fact is, the bishop has made me his secretary, and I shall have to shift my toothbrush and spats to the Palace, you see.'
'Well, fancy that, sir! Why, you'll be a bishop yourself one of these days.'