other leg firmly wedged against the
desk supported the burden of his concentration. The Bishop swung round
on the shapely leg in attendance, and in a single sweeping gesture
blotted the last page of the letter he had been writing and shook Father
Rowley by the hand.

"I am delighted to have an opportunity of meeting you, Mr. Rowley," he
began, and then paused a moment with an inquiring look at Mark.

"I thought you wouldn't mind, my lord, if I brought with me young
Lidderdale, who is reading for Holy Orders and working with us at St.
Agnes'. I am apt to forget sometimes exactly to what I have and have not
committed myself and I thought your lordship would not object. . . ."

"To a witness?" interposed the Bishop in a tone of courtly banter.
"Come, come, Mr. Rowley, had I known you were going to be so suspicious
of me I should have asked my domestic chaplain to be present on my
side."

Mark, supposing that the Bishop was annoyed by his presence at the
interview, made a movement to retire, whereupon the Bishop tapped him
paternally upon the shoulder and said:

"Nonsense, non-sense, I was merely indulging in a mild pleasantry. Sit
down, Mr. Rowley. Mr. Lidderdale I think you will find that chair quite
comfortable. Well, Mr. Rowley," he began, "I have heard much of you and
your work. Our friend Canon Whymper spoke of it with enthusiasm. Yes,
yes, with enthusiasm. I often regret that in the course of my ministry I
have never had the good fortune to be called to work among the poor, the
real poor. You have been privileged, Mr. Rowley, if I may be allowed to
say so, greatly, immensely privileged. You find a wilderness, and you
make of it a garden. Wonderful. Wonderful."

Mark began to feel uncomfortable, and he thought by the way Father
Rowley was puffing his cheeks that he too was beginning to feel
uncomfortable. The Missioner looked as if he was blowing away the lather
of the soap that the Bishop was using upon him so prodigally.

"Some other time, Mr. Rowley, when I have a little leisure. . . . I
perceive the need of making myself acquainted with every side of my new
diocese--a little leisure, yes . . . sometime I should like to have a
long talk with you about all the details of your work at Chatsea, of
which as I said Canon Whymper has spoken to me most enthusiastically.
The question, however, immediately before us this morning is the licence
of your new church. Since writing to you first I have thought the matter