me tone in which Mr. Gresley closed
morning service, and were felt to be final. He was not in reality
greatly chagrined at missing the Bishop, whom he regarded with some of
the suspicious distrust with which a certain class of mind ever regards
that which is superior to it. Hester left the room, closing the door
gently behind her.

"James," said Mrs. Gresley, looking at her priest with tears of
admiration in her eyes, "I shall never be good like you, so you need not
expect it. How you can be so generous and patient with her I don't know.
It passes me."

"We must learn to make allowances for each other," said Mr. Gresley, in
his most affectionate cornet, drawing his tired, tearful little wife
down beside him on the sofa. And he made some fresh tea for her, and
waited on her, and she told him about the children's boots and the sole,
and he told her about a remarkable speech he had made at the chapter
meeting, and a feeling that had been borne in on him on the way home
that he should shortly write something striking about Apostolic
Succession. And they were happy together; for though he sometimes
reproved her as a priest if she allowed herself to dwell on the
probability of his being made a Bishop, he was very kind to her as a
husband.

CHAPTER XV

"Beware of a silent dog and still water."

If you are travelling across Middleshire on the local line between
Southminster and Westhope, after you have passed Wilderleigh with its
gray gables and park wall, close at hand you will perceive to nestle (at
least, Mr. Gresley said it nestled) Warpington Vicarage; and perhaps, if
you know where to look, you will catch a glimpse of Hester's narrow
bedroom window under the roof. Half a mile farther on Warpington Towers,
the gorgeous residence of the Pratts, bursts into view, with flag on
turret flying, and two tightly bitted rustic bridges leaping high over
the Drone. You cannot see all the lodges of Warpington Towers from the
line, which is a source of some regret to Mr. Pratt; but if he happens
to be travelling with you he will point out two of them, chaste stucco
Gothic erections with church windows, and inform you that the three
others are on the northern and eastern sides, vaguely indicating the
directions of Scotland and Ireland.

And the Drone, kept in order on your left by the low line of the
Slumberleigh hills, will follow you and leave you, leave you and return
all the way to Westhope. You are getting out