e a dun rampart of clouds. His love of nature was no less
keen than his appreciation of people and events. The mathematician and
the poet held alternate sway over him. This di-psychic quality was
evidenced by the rapidity with which the expression of his eye would
frequently change from cold calculation to a certain rapt observation,
as if he looked up from a complicated problem to contemplate a glimpse
of blue distance. Thus it was that he appreciated to the full the
panorama spread out before him, though his mind was intent upon another
subject; or rather, it might be said that the sight gave warmth and
colouring to his thought. He had passed the place of that first
meeting several times during the week, and never without a vivid
remembrance of it. If the young woman who had made such an impression
upon him were the bishop's daughter, why had he not seen her in the
interim, at the initial service in the chapel when visitors were
present, upon the grounds, or in the streets of the city? Perhaps she
had been away, and had just returned. At all events, he should know
before long.

Of one thing he felt assured. If Miss Wycliffe turned out to be some
one else, she would hold no interest for him, not even if she possessed
all the indescribable qualities of which Cardington had hinted.
Speculating upon this possibility, he scarcely listened now to the
words of his companion swinging on ahead, as they came brokenly to his
ears in the gusts of wind.

CHAPTER IV

THE BISHOP'S DAUGHTER

The bishop's house was situated about half a mile from the college on
Birdseye Avenue, the principal residence street of Warwick. A forest
aisle and city thoroughfare combined, this vista of ancient elms
suggested the inspiration of those Gothic cathedrals of the Old World
from whose associations and influence the Puritans had fled away.
During their transit beneath this splendid nave, Cardington entertained
his companion with an account of the house they were to visit, its
history and architectural pretensions. In sharp distinction to the
prevalent style of building, the episcopal residence suggested a Tudor
palace. Its pointed windows, its dentilated battlements, its miniature
turrets, would have been impressive on a larger scale, in stone, but
being of wood, in a reduced proportion, they appeared an inadequate
plagiarism, which not even the extensive grounds could shield from
criticism. Seen at night-time, however, the