Tom assented with a shrug. "We needn't
go farther, as she's my guest. Just my luck. I met them at Buxton,
thought them uncommonly good company--in fact, Carwitchet laid me under
a great obligation about a horse I was nearly let in for buying--and
gave them a general invitation here, as one does, you know. Never
expected her to turn up with her luggage this afternoon just before
dinner, to stay a week, or a fortnight if Carwitchet can join her." A
groan of sympathy ran round the table. "It can't be helped. I've told
you this just to show that I shouldn't have asked you here to meet this
sort of people of my own free will; but, as it is, please say no more
about them." The subject was not dropped by any means, and I took care
that it should not be. At our end of the table one story after another
went buzzing round--_sotto voce_, out of deference to Tom--but perfectly
audible.

"Carwitchet? Ah, yes. Mixed up in that Rawlings divorce case, wasn't he?
A bad lot. Turned out of the Dragoon Guards for cheating at cards, or
picking pockets, or something--remember the row at the Cerulean Club?
Scandalous exposure--and that forged letter business--oh, that was the
mother--prosecution hushed up somehow. Ought to be serving her fourteen
years--and that business of poor Farrars, the banker--got hold of some
of his secrets and blackmailed him till he blew his brains out--"

It was so exciting that I clean forgot the bishop, till a low gasp at my
elbow startled me. He was lying back in his chair, his mighty shaven
jowl a ghastly white, his fierce imperious eyebrows drooping limp over
his fishlike eyes, his splendid figure shrunk and contracted. He was
trying with a shaken hand to pour out wine. The decanter clattered
against the glass and the wine spilled on the cloth.

"I'm afraid you find the room too warm. Shall we go into the library?"

He rose hastily and followed me like a lamb.

He recovered himself once we got into the hall, and affably rejected all
my proffers of brandy and soda--medical advice--everything else my
limited experience could suggest. He only demanded his carriage
"directly" and that Miss Panton should be summoned forthwith.

I made the best use I could of the time left me.

"I'm uncommonly sorry you do not feel equal to staying a little longer,
my lord. I counted on showing you my few trifles of precious stones, the
salvage from the wreck of my possessions. Nothing in comparison with
your own collection."