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Rh "Only he would never succeed," said Mrs. Harold Smith. "But perhaps, Mr. Robarts, you are as bad as the rest; perhaps you, too, will be hunting to-morrow."

"My dear Mrs. Smith!" said Mrs. Proudie, in a tone denoting slight reproach and modified horror.

"Oh! I forgot. No, of course, you won't be hunting, Mr. Robarts; you'll only be wishing that you could."

"Why can't he?" said the lady with the loud voice.

"My dear Miss Dunstable! a clergyman hunt while he is staying in the same house with the bishop? Think of the proprieties!"

"Oh—ah! The bishop wouldn't like it—wouldn't he? Now do tell me, sir, what would the bishop do to you if you did hunt?"

"It would depend upon his mood at the time, madam," said Mr. Robarts. "If that were very stern, he might perhaps have me beheaded before the palace gates."

Mrs. Proudie drew herself up in her chair, showing that she did not like the tone of the conversation, and Miss Proudie fixed her eyes vehemently on her book, showing that Miss Dunstable and her conversation were both beneath her notice.

"If these gentlemen do not mean to break their necks to-night," said Mrs. Harold Smith, "I wish they'd let us know it. It's half past six already."

And then Mr. Robarts gave them to understand that no such catastrophe could be looked for that day, as Mr. Sowerby and the other sportsmen were within the stable-yard when he entered the door.

"Then, ladies, we may as well dress," said Mrs. Harold Smith. But, as she moved toward the door, it opened, and a short gentleman, with a slow, quiet step, entered the room, but was not yet to be distinguished through the dusk by the eyes of Mr. Robarts. "Oh! bishop, is that you?" said Mrs. Smith. "Here is one of the luminaries of your diocese." And then the bishop, feeling through the dark, made his way up to the vicar and shook him cordially by the hand. "He was delighted to meet Mr. Robarts at Chaldicotes," he said—"quite delighted. Was he not going to preach on behalf of the Papuan Mission next Sunday? Ah! so he, the bishop, had heard. It was a good work—an excellent work." And then Dr. Proudie expressed himself as much grieved that he could not