e than once felt some
hesitation, and it might now, with a favouring manner from his
entertainer, have operated to deter him from going further with his
intention. But the Bishop had personal weaknesses that were fatal to
sympathy for more than a moment.

'Then I may speak in confidence to you as her nearest relative,' said the
prelate, 'and explain that I am now in a position with regard to Lady
Constantine which, in view of the important office I hold, I should not
have cared to place myself in unless I had felt quite sure of not being
refused by her. And hence it is a great grief, and some mortification to
me, that I was refused--owing, of course, to the fact that I unwittingly
risked making my proposal at the very moment when she was under the
influence of those strange tidings, and therefore not herself, and
scarcely able to judge what was best for her.'

The Bishop's words disclosed a mind whose sensitive fear of danger to its
own dignity hindered it from criticism elsewhere. Things might have been
worse for Louis's Puck-like idea of mis-mating his Hermia with this
Demetrius.

Throwing a strong colour of earnestness into his mien he replied:
'Bishop, Viviette is my only sister; I am her only brother and friend. I
am alarmed for her health and state of mind. Hence I have come to
consult you on this very matter that you have broached. I come
absolutely without her knowledge, and I hope unconventionality may be
excused in me on the score of my anxiety for her.'

'Certainly. I trust that the prospect opened up by my proposal, combined
with this other news, has not proved too much for her?'

'My sister is distracted and distressed, Bishop Helmsdale. She wants
comfort.'

'Not distressed by my letter?' said the Bishop, turning red. 'Has it
lowered me in her estimation?'

'On the contrary; while your disinterested offer was uppermost in her
mind she was a different woman. It is this other matter that oppresses
her. The result upon her of the recent discovery with regard to the late
Sir Blount Constantine is peculiar. To say that he ill-used her in his
lifetime is to understate a truth. He has been dead now a considerable
period; but this revival of his memory operates as a sort of terror upon
her. Images of the manner of Sir Blount's death are with her night and
day, intensified by a hideous picture of the supposed scene, which was
cruelly sent her. She dreads being alone. Nothing will restore my p