“Edgerton and I will manage the service. Dr. Newbold may be quite at ease about that. I hope—”
A summoning bell from above rang sharply.
Mrs. Newbold started, “Oh, Katie is at church,” she exclaimed. “Run, Lois! No, I’ll go myself!” With fingers upon the portière, however, she paused.
The Bishop rose, an odd little flicker in his eyes. “Suppose I go,” he said, moving toward the hall.
The wife looked at him, fighting for a tremulous smile. “There is nothing the matter really, of course. I shouldn’t let you go up. I know I ought to go. But—” she drew quick breath, concluding, “he’s in the study, Bishop.”
Once again as earlier in the day, the Bishop paused before a closed door. An instant he stood there, hesitant, with bowed head, deeply thoughtful, then he knocked with firm hand.
“Come in, of course,” a voice thundered. “Why else should I ring except for you to come in!”
The Bishop was standing quietly in the doorway. At sight of him, the bulky form flung upon the couch sprang up.
“I—I—beg your pardon. I thought it was the maid, or my wife.”
“It is merely your bishop.”