e
overlooked it. If he'd come across it he'd have got married at once.
Anybody can see that he wants to be a bishop."

This seemed unanswerable. Yet I could not believe that the Archdeacon,
who has been a clergyman for many years, could have failed to read the
epistle in which the verse occurs. I made another effort.

"Most likely," I said, "that text means something quite different."

"It can't. The words are as plain as possible."

"Have you looked at the original Greek?"

"No, I haven't. What would be the good of doing that? And, besides, I
don't know Greek."

"Then you may be sure," I said, "that the original Greek alters the
whole thing. I've noticed hundreds of times that when a text seems to
be saying anything which doesn't work out in practice the original Greek
sets it right."

"I know that," said Lalage. "At least I've often heard it. But it
doesn't apply to cases like this. What on earth else could this mean in
the original Greek or any other language you like to translate it into?
'A bishop is to be the husband of one wife.' I looked it out myself to
make sure that Selby-Harrison had made no mistake."

The text certainly seemed uncompromising. I had talked bravely about the
original Greek, but I doubted in my own mind whether even it would offer
a loophole of escape for the Archdeacon.

"It may," I said, desperately, "merely mean that a bishop mayn't have
two wives."

"Do talk sense," said Lalage. "What would be the point of saying that
a bishop mayn't have two? It's hard enough to get a man like the
Archdeacon to have one. Besides, if that's what it means, then other
people, not bishops, are allowed to have two wives, which is perfectly
absurd. It would be bigamy and that's far worse than what the Archdeacon
said I'd done. Where's Hilda?"

Lalage's way of dismissing a subject of which she is tired is abrupt but
unmistakable. I told her that Hilda and her mother had gone.

"That's a pity," said Lalage. "I should have liked to take Hilda with me
this afternoon."

"Are you going to do it so soon?"

"The election is next week," said Lalage, "so we haven't a moment to
lose."

"Well," I said, "if you're really going to do it, I shall be greatly
obliged if you'll let me know afterward exactly what the Archdeacon
says."

"I will if you like," said Lalage, "but there won't be anything to tell
you. He'll simply thank me for bringing the point under his notice."

"I'm not a betting man, but if I