"Then some one should watch the post-office for her messenger. It seems probable that you would know him, as she is not likely to confide in strangers. Who can say that the very man she has married does not send them?" That was easily disposed of, for, to Bradstock’s certain knowledge, all the lovers were in town when the last wires came. "Well, I suggest you watch the post-office," said the bishop. "It is, I opine, a perfectly legitimate thing to do." Bradstock objected that she mightn’t send any more for weeks. A brilliant idea struck the bishop. "Send her one which requires an answer, Bradstock." "Where to?" asked Bradstock. "Tut, tut!" said the bishop, "how foolish of me. Stay, I have it. Put something in the _Times_ which requires an answer." "I will," said Bradstock. "And send for young Bob to watch," said the bishop. "It is time that this scandal was stopped. I am exceedingly grieved with Penelope for getting married in a registrar’s office. I will offer to marry her all over again in this very cathedral. And now you shall come and have lunch, and I will show you the swords given me by the marquis." After lunch and an inspection of the trophies in the dining-room, Bradstock and the bishop drafted an advertisement for the _Times_, imploring Pen to telegraph to Bradstock, saying how she was, as there was a rumour afloat that she didn’t feel well. This was sent by wire to town, and was accompanied in its flight by one to Bob, asking him to come up in a motor-car at once. "I think," said the bishop, "that I should like to go in a motor-car. There must be something delightful in speeding through the country feeling that steel and petrol do not suffer any of the strain that comes on horses. I shall ask young Bob to take me out." "He will be delighted," said Bradstock. "I’m sure he will be delighted. They say he is an enterprising driver for his youth." "I love enterprise," murmured the bishop. "I am surprised now to think of my own. I entered the Church meaning to be a bishop, and I am a bishop. I love enterprise. All curates seem full of it. Deans, I regret to say, are seldom vigorously enterprising. Archdeacons, too, have a tendency to take things easily, too easily." "What do you think of the Higher Criticism?" asked Bradstock. "Ha!" said the bishop, "ha! I think—oh, I think a great deal of it. That is, I think of it a great deal. I do not think all enterprise is praiseworthy. Would you like to know the dean?" They spent the afternoon in the dean’s cathedral, and walked on the dean’s grass, and about six o’clock Bob rolled into the cathedral close in a fifteen-horse-power Daimler, and drew up in front of the bishop’s palace. "Have you found her out?" he demanded, eagerly, of Bradstock. "No, but you shall," said Bradstock. *CHAPTER XX.*