easant for you than for me," she said, "if you
bring the Archdeacon down here. I'm not afraid of him. You are."

"I'll write to Miss Battersby. I'll write to the Provost, and to Miss
Pettigrew. I'll write to Hilda's mother. I'll get Selby-Harrison to
write, too. I'll----"

Lalage was gone. I rang the bell savagely and told the nurse to get my
pens, ink, and paper. I thoroughly agreed with Titherington. Lalage's
proceedings must be stopped at once.

CHAPTER XV

I wrote the first page of a letter to the Archdeacon and expressed
myself, so far as I could in that limited space, strongly. I gave him
to understand that Lalage must be either enticed or forced to leave
Bally-gore. I intended to go onto a description of the sort of things
Lalage had been doing, of Titherington's helplessness and Vittie's
peril. But I was brought up short at the end of the first page by the
want of blotting paper. The nurse brought me two pens, a good sized
bottle of ink, several quires of paper and about fifty envelopes. Then
she went out for her afternoon walk, and I did not discover until after
she had gone that I had no blotting paper. The only course open to me
was to wait, as patiently as I could, until the first page of the letter
dried. It took a long time to dry, because I was very angry when I began
to write and had pressed heavily on the pen. The crosses of my t's were
like short broad canals. The loops of the e's, Fs and such letters were
deep pools, and I had underlined one word with some vigour. I waved the
sheet to and fro in the air. When I got tired of waving it I propped it
up against the fender and let the heat of the fire play on it.

While I was waiting my anger gradually cooled and I began to see that
Lalage was perfectly right in saying that I should suffer most if the
Archdeacon came to our rescue. The story of the champagne in the bag
would leak out at once. The Archdeacon, as I recollected, already
suspected me of intemperance. When he heard that I was drinking secretly
and keeping a private supply of wine he would be greatly shocked and
would probably feel that it was his duty to act firmly. He would, almost
certainly, hold a consultation with McMeekin. McMeekin is just the sort
of man to resent anything in the way of a professional slight from
one of his patients. Goaded on by the Archdeacon he would invent
some horrible punishment for me. In mediaeval times, so I am given to
understand, the clergy tortured