Miss Pettigrew is certainly a very clever woman. Her suggestion was the first thing which caused Lalage to waver. A revolution must be very attractive to a girl of her temperament; and revolutions are comparatively rare on this side of the Atlantic. Lalage certainly hesitated. “What do you think, Hilda?” she asked. For one moment I dared to hope. “There’s been a lot of gun-running done out there lately,” I said, “and I heard of a new submarine on the Amazon.” I am afraid I overdid it. Miss Pettigrew certainly frowned at me. “Mother would never let me,” said Hilda. I had forgotten Hilda’s mother for the moment. I saw at once that the idea of gun-running would frighten her and she would not like to think of her daughter ploughing the bottom of the Amazon in a submarine. “Besides,” said Lalage, “it wouldn’t be right. It’s our duty, our plain duty, to see this bishopric election through. I’m inclined to think that the Archdeacon is the proper man.” “When do you start for the scene of action?” I asked. “At once,” said Lalage. “There’s a train at six o’clock this evening. We left poor Pussy packing her bag and ran round to tell Miss Pettigrew about the change in our plans. I’m dead sick of this old election of yours, anyhow. Aren’t you?” “I am,” I said fervently. “I’m so sick of it that I don’t care if I never stand for Parliament again. By the way, Lalage, now that you’re turning your attention to church affairs wouldn’t it be as well to change the name of the society again. You might call it the Episcopal Election Association. E. E. A. would look well at the head of your notepaper and might be worked up into a monogram.” “I daresay we shall make a change,” said Lalage, “but if we do we’ll be a guild, not a society or an association. Guild is the proper word for anything connected with the church, or high-class furniture, or art needlework. Selby-Harrison will look into the matter for us. But in any case it will be all right about you. You’ll still be a life member. Come along, Hilda. We have a lot of people to see before we start. I have to give out badges to about fifty new members.” “Will that be necessary now?” I asked. “Of course. If anything, more.” “But if you’re changing the name of the society?” “That won’t matter in the least. Do come on, Hilda. We shan’t have time if you dawdle on here. In any case Pussy will have to pack our clothes for us.” They swept out of the room. Miss Pettigrew got up and shut the door after them. The Canon was too much upset to move. “I congratulate you, Miss Pettigrew,” I said. “You’ve succeeded after all in getting Lalage out of this. I hardly thought you would.” “This,” said the Canon, “is worse, infinitely worse.” “I’m not quite sure,” said Miss Pettigrew, “about the procedure in these cases. Who elects bishops?” “The Diocesan Synod,” I said. “Isn’t that right, Canon?” “Yes,” he said, gloomily. “And who constitutes the Diocesan Synod?” said Miss Pettigrew.