Such a fashion of speech was actually offensive to the Dean. Perhaps the spirit of mischief still lingered in the Bishop's breast; perhaps, at times, the Bishop found the Dean almost as trying as the Dean found him. Under the circumstances such a bearing on the part of the Bishop shocked the Dean almost into speechlessness. He gazed at his spiritual superior in a manner which, unless he was mistaken, made his lordship wince. "Has your lordship not missed your lordship's sermon-bag?"
At the question his lordship plainly started.
"My sermon-bag, Pettifer? What do you mean?"
"My lord, I mean what I say."
The Bishop was perturbed. Rising from his chair, he began to fidget about the room. "Why do you ask?"
"Because it has been returned to me."
"Returned to you--no!"
"Yes, my lord; I have it here." The Dean produced the little bag from inside the larger one. He held it up in front of him as he had held it up in front of him at the impromptu meeting at the Deanery. "I will not ask how it came to stray from your lordship's keeping."
The Bishop looked at the Dean; the Dean looked straight at him. It was evident that his lordship was not completely at his ease.
"I perceive that you have heard the story."