the best sort of brother in the world, because when I
did meddle in other people's business I hated doing it, and did it all
wrong; in the future she would try to do everything to please me, for
she was never happy unless I was. As regards my digestion, I certainly
must have resembled the Faulkners' ostrich, for I swallowed all this;
and when we had walked back home I felt as if my attempt to come to an
understanding had not been a failure.

When, however, I thought over what she had said I was not so pleased,
for I began to see that if the summer was to be splendid and I was not
to be called a prig I must give up the idea of taking her to the
'Varsity match. In fact, in ten minutes I had come to the conclusion
that I had been made a fool of, but no one could expect me to begin the
thing all over again. I made a resolution then, which is worth
recording because I kept it, that I would never tackle Nina again about
my friends; she was too much for me, I acknowledged to myself, and
apart from determining that she should at least behave decently to
Fred, I made up my mind to keep clear of things which seemed altogether
out of my line.

It was arranged finally that I should go alone to town for the 'Varsity
match, and should bring Jack Ward back with me. My mother said I must
stay with the Bishop, and if she had not wanted me to go very much I
think I should have found a number of reasons why I had better stay
with him at some other time. For though the Bishop in the country had
made himself quite pleasant, I had a sort of feeling that he had his
eye on me and that this visit would be one of inspection. My
reluctance was apparent to Nina, and one evening she mentioned it
before dinner.

"I don't see what there is to be afraid of. Think of him as an uncle,"
she said.

"I am not afraid of a hundred bishops," I answered.

"Then you needn't be nervous about going to stay with half one, because
he's only a suffragan."

"You shouldn't speak of your uncle in that way, Nina," my mother said.
"It makes no difference whether he is an archbishop or a curate, but I
won't have him spoken of as if he is a fraction."

"Godfrey used to hate him, at any rate," she replied, simply to create
a diversion.

"I am sure he didn't," and my mother's eyes turned questioningly upon
me.

"I did rather bar him at one time until he was decent in the summer, he
used to think himself so funny," I explained.

"I wish you would talk En