dark hair, not Miss Bernard? I know her."

"That's Lady Claudia Territon," said Mrs. Lane. "Very pretty, isn't she?
and really a very good girl."

"Do you say 'really' because, unless you did, I shouldn't believe it?"
he asked, with a smile.

Mrs. Lane had been moved by this idea, but not consciously and, a little
distressed at suspecting herself of an unkindness, entertained the
Bishop with an entirely fanciful catalogue of Claudia's virtues, which,
being overheard by Bob Territon, who had no lady, and was at liberty to
listen, occasioned him immense entertainment.

Claudia, meanwhile, was drifting into a state of some annoyance.
Stafford was very courteous and attentive, but he drank nothing, and
apparently proposed to dine off dry bread. When she began to question
him about his former parish, instead of showing the gratitude that might
be expected, he smiled a smile that she found pleasure in describing as
inscrutable, and said:

"Please don't talk down to me, Lady Claudia."

"I have been taught," responded Claudia, rather stiffly, "to talk about
subjects in which my company is presumably interested."

Stafford looked at her with some surprise. It must be admitted that he
had become used to more submission than Claudia seemed inclined to give
him.

"I beg your pardon. You are quite right. Let us talk about it."

"No, I won't. We will talk about you. You've been very ill, Father
Stafford?"

"A little knocked up."

"I don't wonder!" she said, with an irritated glance at his plate, which
was now furnished with a potato.

He saw the glance.

"It wasn't that," he said; "that suits me very well."

Claudia knew that a pretty girl may say most things, so she said:

"I don't believe it. You're killing yourself. Why don't you do as the
Bishop does?"

The Bishop, good man, was at this moment drinking champagne.

"Men have different ways of living," he answered evasively.

"I think yours is a very bad way. Why do you do it?"

"I'm sure you will forgive me if I decline to discuss the question just
now. I notice you take a little wine. You probably would not care to
explain why."

"I take it because I like it."

"And I don't take it because I like it."

Claudia had a feeling that she was being snubbed, and her impression was
confirmed when Stafford, a moment afterward, turned to Kate Bernard, who
sat on his left hand, and was soon deep in reminiscences of old visits
to the Manor, with which Kate contri