'I think he is much devoted to Lady Constantine, and I am glad of it.
Aren't you?' 'O yes--very,' said Swithin, wondering if Tabitha had seen the tender
little salutes between Lady Constantine and himself.
'I don't think she cares much for him,' added Tabitha judicially. 'Or,
even if she does, she could be got away from him in no time by a younger
man.' 'Pooh, that's nothing,' said Swithin impatiently.
Tabitha then remarked that her blower had not come to time, and that she
must go to look for him; upon which she descended the stairs, and left
Swithin again alone.
A few minutes later the Bishop suddenly looked at his watch, Lady
Constantine having withdrawn towards the house. Apparently apologizing
to Louis the Bishop came down the terrace, and through the door into the
churchyard. Swithin hastened downstairs and joined him in the path under
the sunny wall of the aisle.
Their glances met, and it was with some consternation that Swithin beheld
the change that a few short minutes had wrought in that episcopal
countenance. On the lawn with Lady Constantine the rays of an almost
perpetual smile had brightened his dark aspect like flowers in a shady
place: now the smile was gone as completely as yesterday; the lines of
his face were firm; his dark eyes and whiskers were overspread with
gravity; and, as he gazed upon Swithin from the repose of his stable
figure it was like an evangelized King of Spades come to have it out with
the Knave of Hearts.
* * * * *
To return for a moment to Louis Glanville. He had been somewhat struck
with the abruptness of the Bishop's departure, and more particularly by
the circumstance that he had gone away by the private door into the
churchyard instead of by the regular exit on the other side. True, great
men were known to suffer from absence of mind, and Bishop Helmsdale,
having a dim sense that he had entered by that door yesterday, might have
unconsciously turned thitherward now. Louis, upon the whole, thought
little of the matter, and being now left quite alone on the lawn, he
seated himself in an arbour and began smoking.
The arbour was situated against the churchyard wall. The atmosphere was
as still as the air of a hot-house; only fourteen inches of brickwork
divided Louis from the scene of the Bishop's interview with St. Cleeve,
and as voices on the lawn had been audible to Swithin in the churchyard,
voices in the churchyard could be heard without difficulty from that
close corner of the lawn. No sooner had Louis lit a cigar than the
dialogue began.