e tall retiring figure,
'that is a nice friend for a bishop to have. He's a jail-bird if I
mistake not; and he is afraid of my finding out his business with
Pendle. Birds of a feather,' sighed Mr Cargrim, entering the hotel. 'I
fear, I sadly fear that his lordship is but a whited sepulchre. A look
into the bishop's past might show me many things of moment,' and the fat
living of Heathcroft seemed almost within Cargrim's grasp as he came to
this conclusion.

'Now then, sir,' interrupted a sharp but pleasant female voice, 'and
what may you want?'

Mr Cargrim wheeled round to answer this question, and found himself face
to face with a bar, glittering with brass and crystal and bright-hued
liquors in fat glass barrels; also with an extremely handsome young
woman, dressed in an astonishing variety of colours. She was
high-coloured and frank-eyed, with a great quantity of very black hair
twisted into many amazing shapes on the top of her head. In manner she
was as brisk as a bee and as restless as a butterfly; and being adorned
with a vast quantity of bracelets, and lockets, and brooches, all of
gaudy patterns, jingled at every movement. This young lady was Miss Bell
Mosk, whom the frequenters of The Derby Winner called 'a dashing
beauty,' and Mrs Pansey 'a painted jade.' With her glittering ornaments,
her bright blue dress, her high colour, and general air of vivacity, she
glowed and twinkled in the lamp-light like some gorgeous-plumaged
parrot; and her free speech and constant chatter might have been
ascribed to the same bird.

'Miss Mosk, I believe,' said the polite Cargrim, marvelling that this
gaudy female should be the refined Gabriel's notion of feminine
perfection.

'I am Miss Mosk,' replied Bell, taking a comprehensive view of the
sleek, black-clothed parson. 'What can I do for you?'

'I am Mr Cargrim, the bishop's chaplain, Miss Mosk, and I wish to see Mr
Pendle--Mr Gabriel Pendle.'

Bell flushed as red as the reddest cabbage rose, and with downcast eyes
wiped the counter briskly with a duster. 'Why should you come here to
ask for Mr Pendle?' said she, in guarded tones.

'I called at his lodgings, Miss Mosk, and I was informed that he was
visiting a sick person here.'

'My mother!' replied Bell, not knowing what an amazing lie the chaplain
was telling. 'Yes! Mr Pendle comes often to see--my mother.'

'Is he here now?' asked Cargrim, noticing the hesitancy at the end of
her sentence; 'because I wish to sp