"Oh, no, thank you, sir," that young gentleman assured him. "It is only a scratch."
"I did it," said the candid Angelica; "and it looked unpleasant, so I tied it up."
"Oh," the bishop ejaculated, glancing inquiringly at his wife and daughter. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," said Diavolo, preparing to suit his conversation to the bishop's taste. "There are a great many things we want to discuss with you; what were they, Angelica? I am sure I have forgotten them all."
"Let me see," said Angelica—Sainte Chantal and the rotten potato had quite gone out of her mind. "It was just to have a little interesting conversation, you know."
"We're getting on very well with our lessons," Diavolo gravely assured him, anticipating the inevitable question.
"We've just come from Morne," said Angelica.
"Indeed," the bishop answered. "How is your grandfather?"
"Rather flat to-day," said Angelica. "He didn't say anything of interest; didn't even lecture us."
"No; but he looked pleasant," said Diavolo.