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120 visit had perhaps been misunderstood, but the prelate's eyes were bright with benignant enthusiasm and he dared not interrupt.

“You inquired most kindly in your letter as to a possible vacancy in the Church. Indeed there is a niche in the transept that I should be happy to see filled. It is intended for some kind of memorial statue, and perhaps, in honour of the late Mr. Beagle”

“I must explain, Sir Bishop,” said Gissing, very much disturbed, “that I have left Beagle and Company. The contribution I wish to make to the Church is not a decorative one, I fear. It is myself.”

“Yourself?” queried the Bishop, politely puzzled.

“Yes,” stammered Gissing, “I—in fact, I am hoping to—to enter the ministry.”

The Bishop was plainly amazed, and his long, aristocratic nose seemed longer than ever as he gazed keenly at his caller.

“But have you had any formal training in theology?”

“None, right reverend Bishop,” said Gissing, “But it's this way,” and, incoherently at first, but