"Do you know, Bradstock," said the bishop, as he stroked his leg, which was a very reasonable leg for a bishop, "I wonder you didn’t think I had married Penelope." "Good heavens!" said Bradstock, "have you?" "Certainly not," replied the bishop, "but it is odd she should be near Spilsborough, isn’t it?" "She must be somewhere," said Bradstock, rather irritably. "Hang it! the girl must be somewhere." "When you think of it, she must," said the bishop. "Yes, yes, you are right. Still, Spilsborough—yes, it’s odd, but not remarkable. As you say, she must be somewhere. I hope it’s not the Jew, Bradstock." So did Bradstock. "It looks very much as if she was ashamed of him. But I’m incapable of judging, not having been married," said the bishop. "I’ve been married twice," said Bradstock, "and Pen is a woman, which means she resembles no other woman in any respect whatever as regards her ways, manners, customs, and thoughts." "You say that coolly?" asked the bishop. "Icily," replied Bradstock. The bishop shook his head. "You surprise me," said the bishop, "and I think I will go to bed." Bradstock went to bed, too. "I shouldn’t be surprised if she had married the bishop and was under this roof now," said Bradstock. "Nothing would surprise me unless I discover she’s married to Rivaulx or Bramber. I don’t think I should mind either of ’em." And next day at half-past twelve Bob and his chauffeur took up a position near the post-office. As Geordie Smith knew Bradstock, he kept quietly at the palace. But the interested bishop who had not married Penelope kept bustling about the neighbourhood in quite an excitement. "I wish I was coming with you, Bob." "Oh, do!" said Bob. "I almost think it would be advisable," said the bishop. "What I said would have weight with Penelope, I believe." "I rather wish you’d come," cried Bob. "It would be fun, and you said you’d like to go in a motor-car." "So I did," said the bishop, "but I’ve never been in one. No one has seen me in one. I fear a crowd would assemble." "At any rate, my lord, you might get in and sit down a minute." The bishop looked around. "I really think I will," he said. And he entered the car. "This is really comfortable, Bob, very comfortable, quite like an armchair. Is your driver a good one?" "A ripper," said Bob. "The best they have where I got the car. It’s not mine, but when I get all the money that Gordon owes me, I’ll buy one." The chauffeur got down and did something inexplicable to the machinery with a spanner. And the spanner broke. "I’ll just run across and get a new one, sir," said the chauffeur. "It’s getting late," said Bob. "Don’t be long, and before you go start her up." The driver set her going, and the bishop caught hold of Bob. "You’re not off? This is very surprising. It makes a very curious noise." "There won’t be any to speak of when we get her moving," said Bob. "You see the engine is going, and when we like we can start at once."