rself of some taint contracted at The Derby Winner.

CHAPTER VIII

ON SATURDAY NIGHT

The bishop returned on Saturday morning instead of on Friday night as
arranged, and was much more cheerful than when he left, a state of mind
which irritated Cargrim in no small degree, and also perplexed him not a
little. If Dr Pendle's connection with Jentham was dangerous he should
still be ill at ease and anxious, instead of which he was almost his old
genial self when he joined his wife and Lucy at their afternoon tea. Sir
Harry was not present, but Mr Cargrim supplied his place, an exchange
which was not at all to Lucy's mind. The Pendles treated the chaplain
always with a certain reserve, and the only person who really thought
him the good young man he appeared to be, was the bishop's wife. But
kindly Mrs Pendle was the most innocent of mortals, and all geese were
swans to her. She had not the necessary faculty of seeing through a
brick wall with which nature had gifted Mrs Pansey in so extraordinary a
degree.

As a rule, Mr Cargrim did not come to afternoon tea, but on this
occasion he presented himself; ostensibly to welcome back his patron, in
reality to watch him. Also he was determined, at the very first
opportunity, to introduce the name of Jentham and observe what effect it
had on the bishop. With these little plans in his mind the chaplain
crept about the tea-table like a tame cat, and handed round cake and
bread with his most winning smile. His pale face was even more
inexpressive than usual, and none could have guessed, from outward
appearance, his malicious intents--least of all the trio he was with.
They were too upright themselves to suspect evil in others.

'I am so glad to see you are better, bishop,' said Mrs Pendle,
languidly trifling with a cup of tea. 'Your journey has done you good.'

'Change of air, change of air, my dear. A wonderful restorative.'

'Your business was all right, I hope?'

'Oh, yes! Indeed, I hardly went up on business, and what I did do was a
mere trifle,' replied the bishop, smoothing his apron. 'Has Gabriel been
here to-day?' he added, obviously desirous of turning the conversation.

'Twice!' said Lucy, who presided over the tea-table; 'and the second
time he told mamma that he had received a letter from George.'

'Ay, ay! a letter from George. Is he quite well, Lucy?'

'We shall see that for ourselves this evening, papa. George is coming to
Beorminster, and will be her