"to keep Lalage in her place once she is
put there."

"If he does that----"

"I quite agree with you. If he does that he ought to be a bishop, or a
Metropolitan, if not a Patriarch. That's why I'm going to vote for him."

CHAPTER XVIII

My mother appeared to think that I had grown lazy since I recovered from
my attack of influenza. She continually pressed me to take exercise and
invented a hundred different excuses for getting me out of doors. When
I saw that her heart was really set on seeing me walk I did what I could
to gratify her. I promised to go over to the rectory after luncheon on
the very next fine day. There seemed no prospect of a fine day for at
least a month, and so I felt tolerably safe in making the promise. But
there is nothing so unreliable as weather, especially Irish weather. I
had no sooner made my promise than the clouds began to break. At twelve
o'clock it stopped raining. At one the sun was shining with provoking
brilliancy. I tried to ignore the change and at luncheon complained
bitterly of the cold. My mother, by way of reply, remarked on the
cheerful brightness of the sunshine. She did not, in so many words, ask
me to redeem my promise, but I knew what was in her mind.

"All right," I said, "I'm going. I shall put on a pair of thick boots. I
should prefer driving, but of course----"

"Walking will be much better for you." "That's just what I was going to
say, I shall run a certain amount of risk, of course. I may drop down
exhausted. I am still very weak; weaker than I look. Or I may get
overheated. Or I may get too cold."

My mother, curiously enough, for she was very fond of me, did not seem
frightened.

"McMeekin told me," I went on, "that a relapse after influenza is nearly
always fatal. However, I have made my will and I fully intend to walk."

I did walk as far as the gate lodge and about a hundred yards beyond
it. It was not in any way my fault that I got no farther. I was actually
beginning to like walking and should certainly have gone on if Lalage
had not stopped me. She and Hilda were in the Canon's pony trap, driving
furiously. Lalage held the reins. Hilda clung with both hands to the
side of the trap. The pony was galloping hard and foaming at the mouth.
I stepped aside when I saw them coming and climbed more than halfway up
a large wooden gate which happened to be near me at the time. The road
was very muddy and I did not want to be splashed from head to foot.
Be