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 poor man a really pleasant time while he's with us."

"Ronald," said Mrs. Mendel a few minutes later, "I'm afraid that Minnie"

Ronald lit a cigar gloomily.

"Your mother," she went on, "won't like the flippant way in which Minnie evidently means to treat the bishop. When she hears about it she'll blame us."

"I rather think," said Ronald, "that I'd better go down to Cork and pay a visit to Gilbert Hutchinson's aunt till this business is over."

"If only Minnie would do that! But of course she won't. She's enjoying herself."

Two days later the bishop arrived. It was half past four o'clock when he drove up to the doors. Ronald was out on the river. Mrs. Mendel and Minnie were in the drawing-room waiting for afternoon tea to be brought to them. The bishop was a young man, as bishops go. He did not look more than forty-five, but his face was lean and heavily lined. He gave Mrs. Mendel the impression of being a man of severe integrity, very little inclined to human weaknesses. She greeted him nervously.

"I expect," said Minnie, cheerfully, "that you'd like to wash your hands before tea."