"I came to see him, too. I always come to see him when he's here on his visitation. I think he's such a dear man."
"He's a very agreeable fellow."
"If one were going to get married wouldn't it be too sweet for anything to have the bishop marry you?"
"It wouldn't be a bad idea, that's so."
"And he's getting along in years, and his health is not very good, and I did hear some talk about his resigning. Wouldn't it be too bad if he should leave the episcopate before one is ready to get married?"
Barry began to have an uncomfortable feeling. He didn't know just why. It was not the first time that Miss Chichester had discussed the subject of matrimony with him, and his equanimity had never before been ruffled by it, but now he saw a cloud on the horizon.
"Oh, well," he said, "there'll be other bishops."
"But this one is so adorable," persisted Miss Chichester. "And what with all the trouble in the parish and everything, he may never come here again. Barry, when that person comes out, whoever it is, we'll go in and see the bishop together, won't we?"
Barry took a firmer grasp on his hat and cane, and glanced anxiously toward the hall door as if to make sure of his means of escape in the event of an emergency.
"Why," he stammered, "I wanted to see the bishop alone,—a—confidentially, you know. A matter of some importance."
"But we shouldn't have any secrets that we keep from each other, Barry. And I'm sure that if we go to the bishop together and agree on what to ask him, we can prevail on him to do almost anything for us. Oh, dear! I wish the person that's in there would come out quick."
