h" (twenty cantos in blank verse), and
"Through a Glass Brightly; or, How to Raise Funds fora Memorial
Window"--inexplicably languished on the back shelves of a publisher
noted for his dexterity in pushing "devotional goods." Even this
indiscretion the Bishop might, however, have condoned, had his niece
thought fit to turn to him for support and advice at the painful
juncture of her history when, in her own words, it became necessary for
her to invite Mr. Clinch to look out for another situation. Mr.
Clinch's misconduct was of the kind especially designed by Providence
to test the fortitude of a Christian wife and mother, and the Bishop
was absolutely distended with seasonable advice and edification; so
that when Bella met his tentative exhortations with the curt remark
that she preferred to do her own housecleaning unassisted, her uncle's
grief at her ingratitude was not untempered with sympathy for Mr.
Clinch.

It is not surprising, therefore, that the Bishop's warmest greetings
were always reserved for Mrs. Fetherel; and on this occasion Mrs.
Clinch thought she detected, in the salutation which fell to her share,
a pronounced suggestion that her own presence was superfluous--a hint
which she took with her usual imperturbable good humor.

II

Left alone with the Bishop, Mrs. Fetherel sought the nearest refuge
from conversation by offering him a cup of tea. The Bishop accepted
with the preoccupied air of a man to whom, for the moment, tea is but a
subordinate incident. Mrs. Fetherel's nervousness increased; and
knowing that the surest way of distracting attention from one's own
affairs is to affect an interest in those of one's companion, she
hastily asked if her uncle had come to town on business.

"On business--yes--" said the Bishop in an impressive tone. "I had to
see my publisher, who has been behaving rather unsatisfactorily in
regard to my last book."

"Ah--your last book?" faltered Mrs. Fetherel, with a sickening sense of
her inability to recall the name or nature of the work in question, and
a mental vow never again to be caught in such ignorance of a
colleague's productions.

"'Through a Glass Brightly,'" the Bishop explained, with an emphasis
which revealed his detection of her predicament. "You may remember that
I sent you a copy last Christmas?"

"Of course I do!" Mrs. Fetherel brightened. "It was that delightful
story of the poor consumptive girl who had no money, and two little
brothers to su