himself reluctantly unable to consume. Such self-denial surprised even
his most devoted adherents, until it was discovered that the bishop had
no idea that he was pouring libations into the street, but, with some
hazy intention of conserving the remains of his liquor, invariably
mistook the window for the door of a cupboard. The house on the left
is of peculiar interest. Behind those walls----"

"I wouldn't interrupt you for worlds," said Daphne, "and I'm sure the
cathedral won't be half so interesting, but, perhaps, if we saw that
first...."

"That's right," said her husband. "Twist the sage's tail. Now I've
lost my place. I shall have to begin all over again." He paused to
pass his hand across his eyes. Then he flung out an arm. "We now
enter the famous Bishops' Row. At one time or another, in every one of
these dwellings prelates of all...."

We fairly fled up the street.

We had visited the shrine: we had wondered at the silver eloquence of
architects: we had examined one by one sixty-six of the most exquisite
stalls that ever graced a choir: we had stared at thrones, pulpit,
organ-case and a great frieze--all of them carved with a cunning which
money could never buy, and to-day great love and piety are too poor to
purchase--we had walked in the cloisters: we had been shown the relics:
and whilst the others were picking over some picture postcards, I was
looking at an old fountain in the cathedral square.

"I say," said a pleasant voice.

Upon the other side of the basin was a slim figure in a grey tweed
suit--a nice-looking boy of about twenty summers. His thick, dark hair
was uncovered, and there was a grave look in the big brown eyes.

"Hullo," said I. "You're the runaway."

"That's right," he said quickly. "I only want to apologise. I'm
afraid I was awfully rude to laugh like that, but I couldn't help it.
I wasn't listening."

He turned away hurriedly.

"Here, I say!" I cried, stepping after him. With his chin on his
shoulder the boy hesitated, like some wild thing. "Don't go," I added.
"It's quite all right. If my brother-in-law likes to make a fool of
himself, why shouldn't you laugh?"

"I know, but----"

"My dear fellow," said I, "the more the merrier. Besides, we use the
same hatter. So let's be friends. You're all alone, aren't you?"

"Er--yes. I'm really staying at Pau, and, as I'd got nothing----"

"I knew I'd seen your car before. Didn't you go to Lourdes on Tuesd