p of Princhester conceded three months.

"Including every sort of service. Because, after all, even supposing
it is damnable to repeat prayers and creeds you do not believe in, and
administer sacraments you think superstition, nobody can be damned
but yourself. On the other hand if you express doubts that are not yet
perfectly digested--you experiment with the souls of others...."

(5)

The bishop found much to ponder in his old friend's counsels. They were
discursive and many-fronted, and whenever he seemed to be penetrating or
defeating the particular considerations under examination the others
in the background had a way of appearing invincible. He had a strong
persuasion that Likeman was wrong--and unanswerable. And the true God
now was no more than the memory of a very vividly realized idea. It
was clear to the bishop that he was no longer a churchman or in the
generally accepted sense of the word a Christian, and that he was bound
to come out of the church. But all sense of urgency had gone. It was a
matter demanding deliberation and very great consideration for others.

He took no more of Dale's stuff because he felt bodily sound and slept
well. And he was now a little shy of this potent fluid. He went down
to Princhester the next day, for his compromise of an interval of three
months made it seem possible to face his episcopal routine again. It
was only when he was back in his own palace that the full weight of
his domestic responsibilities in the discussion of the course he had to
take, became apparent.

Lady Ella met him with affection and solicitude.

"I was tired and mentally fagged," he said. "A day or so in London had
an effect of change."

She agreed that he looked much better, and remained for a moment or so
scrutinizing him with the faint anxiety of one resolved to be completely
helpful.

He regarded her with a renewed sense of her grace and dignity and
kindliness. She was wearing a grey dress of soft silky material, touched
with blue and covered with what seemed to him very rich and beautiful
lace; her hair flowed back very graciously from her broad brow, and
about her wrist and neck were delicate lines of gold. She seemed
tremendously at home and right just where she was, in that big
hospitable room, cultured but Anglican, without pretensions or
novelties, with a glow of bound books, with the grand piano that Miriam,
his third daughter, was beginning to play so well, with the tea equipage