"Do not understand anything, but have hopes. Your telegram arrived before Augustin’s. You say normal; he says Robert’s words do not convey anything but negation of extreme blackness. Jugpore going back to India, owing to scandalous conduct at music-hall. India Office furious. Secretary of State in bed. Rumour now affirms infant not Penelope’s. Says adopted. Have just seen Plant and Gordon and Carteret Williams, and expect the others. They say they knew it all the time. Say they gave her the infant. Am confused, but hope you and Augustin will clear up details and find Penelope. Am exceedingly vexed with Robert. De Vere has just come, weeps, but seems pleased. Bramber wires wishes to see me, but father is ill at Pulborough, doctors (three) giving up hope. Goby just left. Will come to Spilsborough myself to-day if doctor permits, owing to palpitations. Keep me informed." "Dear me!" said the bishop, "this seems quite a new development, a very surprising one. But I am sorry to see, Bradstock, that you sent another telegram without consulting me." "I didn’t want you to give her too much hope," replied Bradstock. "You were so certain. Your telegram was not logical. What is not black is not necessarily white, for not-black may be green, or blue, or magenta." "You are a pessimist," said the bishop. "However, I forgive you. What surprises me is this adoption story. I don’t believe it." Bradstock was fractious. "Well, I don’t know, bishop. She always said if she had none of her own she would adopt one." "Nonsense!" said the bishop. "It is not nonsense," said Bradstock. "Why don’t you say they are twins?" demanded the bishop. "What are twins?" "It," said the bishop. "Really, Bradstock, don’t you see you are unreasonable? You will believe anything." "And this from a bishop," murmured Bradstock. "Why should I say it was twins?" "If she adopted one, she might adopt two," said the bishop. "That is ridiculous. I never heard of twins being adopted," cried Bradstock. "Besides, Bob says ’the baby.’" "Well, well," said the bishop, "do not let us argue passionately about a detail." "I do not see that twins can be called a detail," said Bradstock, crossly. "Very well, call them what you like," said the bishop, hastily. "But I expect the duchess will be here any moment." Bradstock said he shouldn’t wonder if she was. "She will insist on coming with us to-morrow," he said. The bishop started. "Bradstock, we will go to-day. I will put off my business and go at once. The duchess is a remarkable woman, but she talks too much." And such was his lordship’s energy that they started by train for Boston in less than half an hour. "I rather enjoy this," said the bishop. "This is an unusual event in a life like mine, Bradstock. I wonder whether we shall succeed, and I wonder what the young rascal will say when he sees me. He will be rather abashed, I fancy."