esting, having heard the bishop's opinion of Emmet, to get Emmet's
view of the bishop, a view that was by no means without a certain
reluctant respect and admiration. Leigh felt that his prejudice was
impassioned, rather than intellectual, and would yield gradually to a
change of circumstances, whereas the bishop would never revise his
judgment. He was impressed also by the fact that Miss Wycliffe could
never fully appreciate the conditions that had produced the man whose
cause she had chosen to champion, or see that he must needs be a
radical, if he thought at all, at least in the present stage of his
development. Leigh's own experience in life enabled him to look into
both camps with comprehension, for he belonged to the comparatively
small class of the cultivated poor, and his struggles had been no less
intense than those of the man before him, though for different ends.
The effect of what he said was conciliatory, but his visitor was merely
convinced that this particular college graduate was an exception to the
rule.

"You 're not much like the bishop," he remarked. "I don't say that he
is n't the real thing in the way of a gentleman, but he 's as proud as
the Old Boy himself."

"I don't know how proud the Old Boy may be," Leigh answered, laughing,
"or what he has to be proud of, but I 've discovered that Bishop
Wycliffe, underneath his apparent frigidity, has one of the kindest
hearts in the world."

"We all know that," Emmet assented. "He's one of the most charitable
men in town. I 'm bound to say, too, that he does n't know anything
about the inside workings of that political ring, but it's because he
does n't want to know. He just naturally ranges himself with his own
class on such a question."

He had progressed from an alertness that was not free from suspicion to
a fervid statement of the political situation, into which the element
of his personal feelings had risen more and more to the surface. So
naturally did he appear to take the mention of Miss Wycliffe that Leigh
had not realised how deeply flattered he must have been by her
interest. Now, at last, his very posture showed a sense of being at
home, and into the brightness of his steady eyes an expression entered
which could best be described as confidential.

"I meant to ask you," he said, "who it was that began to talk about me
at the bishop's."

Leigh considered a moment. "We were all discussing politics--I really
don't remember."