is like his sister. But then, one
might thrash him, but what can be done with her? I tell you, Mrs.
Archibald," he said, turning to her, earnestly, "it is getting to be
unbearable. The whole evening, ever since you left the camp-fire, she has
been talking to me on the subject of mental assimilation--that is, the
treatment of our ideas and thoughts as if they were articles of
food--intellectual soda biscuit, or plum pudding, for instance--in order
to find out whether our minds can digest these things and produce from
them the mental chyme and chyle necessary to our intellectual development.
The discourse was fortunately broken off for to-night, but there is more
of it for to-morrow. I really cannot stand it."

"I wouldn't stand it," said Mrs. Archibald. "Can't you simply go away and
leave her when she begins in that way?"

The bishop shook his head. "No," he said, "that is impossible. When those
beautiful eyes are fixed upon me I cannot go away. They charm me and they
hold me. Unless there is an interruption, I must stay and listen. The only
safety for me is to fly from this camp. At last," he said, smiling a
little sadly, "I am going to go. I did not want to do this until your camp
broke up, but I must."

"And you are really going to-morrow?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "I have positively decided upon that."

"I am sorry to hear it," she said. "Good-night."

When Mrs. Archibald entered her cabin she found her husband sleeping
soundly, and she again sat down by the window. There was no such thing as
sleep for her; her mind was more tossed and troubled than it had been
before she went out. The fact that the bishop was going away made the
matter worse, for just as she had found out that he was willing to help
her, and that he might be able to keep Raybold away from them without
actual violence--for she saw that the young boaster was afraid of him--he
had told her he must leave, and in her heart she did not blame him. With
great fear and anxiety she looked forward to the morrow.

It was about two o'clock when Mrs. Archibald suddenly arose from her seat
by the window and lighted a candle. Then she pulled down the shades of the
windows, front and back, after which she went to her husband's cot and put
her hand upon his shoulder.

"Hector," said she, "wake up."

In a moment Mr. Archibald was staring at her. "What is the matter?" he
exclaimed. "Are you sick?"

"No," said she, "but I have something very important to