could not help
hearing. His uneasiness became a great fear, and he felt that his face
was bloodless. Turning to escape if possible through the kitchen, he
paused long enough to hear the secretary say:

"No, Bishop, I am afraid you cannot stay. Monsignore Murray is quite
beyond understanding. He seems so good, and yet to have done a thing
like this is awful. Surely he realizes what a scandal he may stir up."

"Could you possibly secure an automobile to take us to Father Darcy's?"
asked the Bishop anxiously. "He lives in the next town, and we could
catch the train at his station."

"I will try."

By this time Mark had decided that he could not very well go through
the kitchen, and he had heard enough to make him feel that his duty
toward Ruth was to wait. It was something he would not have done under
other circumstances; but Mark was in love, and he remembered the adage
about love and war.

"At once, please," he heard the young priest say over the telephone.
Then he hung up the receiver, just as Father Murray stepped into the
dining room from the kitchen through which he had passed from the
sacristy.

"Welcome, Mr. Griffin," he said cordially. "Come, you must meet His
Lordship. He's in here," and he threw open the folding-doors. The
Bishop was standing. The secretary entered from the hall. The
Bishop's face was grave; but Father Murray did not notice that. He was
like a youth, with the excitement of the occasion upon him.

"Let me present a traveler, Mr. Mark Griffin, of England, to Your
Lordship--or is it Ireland, Mr. Griffin? Mr. Griffin is going to stay
to break bread with us, Bishop, and I know you will like him."

"I am pleased indeed to meet Mr. Griffin," said the Bishop. "I saw you
in the church, sir. But I am very sorry, Monsignore, that I am not to
have the opportunity of knowing Mr. Griffin better. I am not--"

But the tactful secretary saved the Bishop an unpleasant explanation.

"His Lordship has to leave, Monsignore, and at once. The automobile is
even now, I think, coming around the corner. It has become necessary
for the Bishop to go to Father Darcy's before taking the train back to
the city. He hopes to catch Father Darcy for a few minutes before
taking the train at the next station."

Father Murray almost gasped.

"But, My Lord," he cried, "our meal is prepared. We have been looking
forward to your staying. It is customary, is it not? I shall never be
able to--" and