suit of
light-brown tweed, and carried himself with a buoyant uprightness. A neat
straw hat with a broad ribbon shaded his smooth-shaven face, which
sparkled with cordial good-humor. A blue cravat was tied tastefully under
a broad white collar, and in his hand he carried a hickory walking-stick,
cut in the woods, but good enough for a city sidewalk. Margery was the
first to raise her eyes at the sound of the quickly approaching
footsteps.

"Goodness gracious!" she exclaimed, and then everybody looked up.

For a moment the new-comer was gazed upon in silence. From what gigantic
bandbox could this well-dressed stranger have dropped? Then, with a loud
laugh, Mr. Archibald cried, "The bishop!"

No wonder there had not been instant recognition. The loose, easy-fitting
clothes gave no hint of redundant plumpness; no soiled shovel-hat cast a
shadow over the smiling face, and a glittering shirt front banished all
thought of gutta-percha.

"Madam," exclaimed the bishop, raising his hat and stepping quickly
towards Mrs. Archibald, "I cannot express the pleasure I feel in meeting
you again. And as for you, sir," holding out his hand to Mr. Archibald, "I
have no words in which to convey my feelings. Look upon a man, sir, who
feels himself a man, and then remember from what you raised him. I can say
no more now, but I can never forget what you have done," and as he spoke
he pressed Mr. Archibald's hand with an honest fervor, which distorted for
a moment the features of that gentleman.

From one to the other of the party the bishop glanced, as he said, "How
glad, how unutterably glad, I am to be again among you!" Turning his eyes
towards Miss Raybold, he stopped. That young lady had put down the letter
she was reading, and was gazing at him through her spectacles with calm
intensity. "This lady," said the bishop, turning towards Raybold, "is your
sister, I presume? May I have the honor?"

Raybold looked at him without speaking. Here was an example of the silly
absurdity of throwing pearls before swine. He had never wanted to have
anything to do with the fellow when he was in the gutter, and he wanted
nothing to do with him now.

With a little flush on her face Mrs. Archibald rose.

"Miss Raybold," she said, "let me present to you"--and she hesitated for a
moment--"the gentleman we call the bishop. I think you have heard us speak
of him."

"Yes," said Miss Raybold, rising, with a charming smile on her handsome
face, and ext