ton."

"Well, you see a man named Hatton," said the bishop; "and now what do
want of him?"

"I should like to say a word to you alone," said Morley.

"Hem! I should like to know who is to finish this lock, and to look
after my boys! If it's an order, let us have it at once."

"It is not an order," said Morley.

"Then I don't want to hear nothing about it," said the bishop.

"It's about family matters," said Morley.

"Ah!" said Hatton, eagerly, "what, do you come from him?"

"It may be," said Morley.

Upon this the bishop, looking up to the ceiling of the room in which
there were several large chinks, began calling out lustily to some
unseen person above, and immediately was replied to in a shrill voice of
objurgation, demanding in peremptory words, interlarded with many oaths,
what he wanted. His reply called down his unseen correspondent, who soon
entered his workshop. It was the awful presence of Mrs Hatton; a tall,
bearded virago, with a file in her hand, for that seemed the distinctive
arm of the house, and eyes flashing with unbridled power.

"Look after the boys," said Hatton, "for I have business."

"Won't I?" said Mrs Hatton; and a thrill of terror pervaded the
assembly. All the files moved in regular melody; no one dared to raise
his face; even her two young children looked still more serious and
demure. Not that any being present flattered himself for an instant that
the most sedulous attention on his part could prevent an outbreak; all
that each aspired to, and wildly hoped, was that he might not be the
victim singled out to have his head cut open, or his eye knocked out, or
his ears half pulled off by the being who was the terror not only of the
workshop, but of Wodgate itself,--their bishop's gentle wife.

In the meantime, that worthy, taking Morley into a room where there were
no machines at work except those made of iron, said, "Well, what have
you brought me?"

"In the first place," said Morley, "I would speak to you of your
brother."

"I concluded that," said Hatton, "when you spoke of family matters
bringing you here; he is the only relation I have in this world, and
therefore it must be of him."

"It is of him," said Morley.

"Has he sent anything?"

"Hem!" said Morley, who was by nature a diplomatist, and instantly
comprehended his position, being himself pumped when he came to pump;
but he resolved not to precipitate the affair. "How late is it since you
heard from him?" he ask