nes.

'My gal!' replied Mosk, with husky tenderness--'and in tears. What 'ave
you bin sayin' to her, sir?' he added, with a ferocious glance at
Pendle.

'Hush, father! 'tis his lordship, the bishop.' 'I know'd the bishop's
looks afore you was born, my gal,' said Mosk, playfully, 'and it's proud
I am to see 'im under m' umble roof. Lor'! 'ere's a 'appy family
meeting.'

'I think,' said the bishop, with a glance at Mosk to assure himself that
the man was sober--'I think, Miss Mosk, that it is advisable your father
and myself should have a few words in private.'

'I don't want father to interfere--' began Bell, when her parent gripped
her arm, and cutting her short with a scowl conducted her to the door.

'Don't you git m' back up,' he whispered savagely, 'or you'll be
cussedly sorry for yerself an' everyone else. Go to yer mother.'

'But, father, I--'

'Go to yer mother, I tell y',' growled the man, whereupon Bell, seeing
that her father was in a soberly brutal state, which was much more
dangerous than his usual drunken condition, hastily left the room, and
closed the door after her. 'An' now, m' lord,' continued Mosk, returning
to the bishop, 'jus' look at me.'

Dr Pendle did so, but it was not a pretty object he contemplated, for
the man was untidy, unwashed and frowsy in looks. He was red-eyed and
white-faced, but perfectly sober, although there was every appearance
about him of having only lately recovered from a prolonged debauch.
Consequently his temper was morose and uncertain, and the bishop, having
a respect for the dignity of his position and cloth, felt uneasy at the
prospect of a quarrel with this degraded creature. But Dr Pendle's
spirit was not one to fail him in such an emergency, and he surveyed Mr
Caliban in a cool and leisurely manner.

'I'm a father, I am!' continued Mosk, defiantly, 'an' as good a father
as you. My gal's goin' to marry your son. Now, m' lord, what have you to
say to that?'

'Moderate your tone, my man,' said the bishop, imperiously; 'a
conversation conducted in this manner can hardly be productive of good
results either to yourself or to your daughter.'

'I don' mean any 'arm!' replied Mosk, rather cowed, 'but I mean to 'ave
m' rights, I do.'

'Your rights? What do you mean?'

'M' rights as a father,' explained the man, sulkily. 'Your son's bin
runnin' arter m' gal, and lowerin' of her good name.'

'Hold your tongue, sir. Mr Pendle's intentions with regard to Miss Mos