[Illustration: "I'D RATHER A JOB TO GET THESE THINGS ON; BUT THEY'RE REALLY A WONDERFUL FIT, CONSIDERING!"] _Lady Cantire._ That's right, Mr. Spurrell. Come here, and let me present you to the Bishop of Birchester. The Bishop has just been telling me he considers your _Andromeda_ sickly, or unhealthy, or something. I'm sure you'll be able to convince him it's nothing of the sort. [_She leaves him with the_ Bishop, _who is visibly annoyed_. _Spurrell_ (_to himself, overawed_). Oh, Lor! Wish I knew the right way to talk to a Bishop. Can't call _him_ nothing--so doosid familiar. (_Aloud._) _Andromeda_ sickly, your--(_tentatively_)--your Right Reverence? Not a bit of it--sound as a roach! _The Bishop._ If I had thought my--ah--criticisms were to be repeated--I might say misrepresented, as the Countess has thought proper to do, Mr. Spurrell, I should not have ventured to make them. At the same time, you must be conscious yourself, I think, of certain blemishes which would justify the terms I employed. _Spurrell._ I never saw any in _Andromeda_ myself, your--your Holiness. You're the first to find a fault in her. I don't say there mayn't be something dicky about the setting and the turn of the tail, but that's a trifle. _The Bishop._ I did not refer to the setting of the tale, and the portions I object to are scarcely trifles. But pardon me if I prefer to end a discussion that can hardly be other than unprofitable. (_To himself, as he turns on his heel._) A most arrogant, self-satisfied, and conceited young man--a truly lamentable product of this half-educated age! _Spurrell_ (_to himself_). Well, he may be a dab at dogmas--he don't know much about dogs. Drummy's got a constitution worth a dozen of _his_! _Lady Culverin_ (_approaching him_). Oh, Mr. Spurrell, Lord Lullington is most anxious to know you. If you will come with me. (_To herself, as she leads him up to_ Lord LULLINGTON.) I do _wish_ Rohesia wouldn't force me to do this sort of thing! [_She presents him._ _Lord Lullington_ (_to himself_). I suppose I _ought_ to know all about his novel, or whatever it is he's done. (_Aloud, with courtliness._) Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Spurrell; you've--ah--delighted the world by your _Andromeda_. When are we to look for your next production? Soon, I hope. _Spurrell_ (_to himself_). _He's_ after a pup now! Never met such a doggy lot in my life! (_Aloud._) Er--well, my lord, I've promised so many as it is, that I hardly see my way to---- _Lord Lullington_ (_paternally_). Take my advice, my dear young man, leave yourself as free as possible. Expect you to give us your best, you know. [_He turns to continue a conversation._ _Spurrell_ (_to himself_). _Give_ it! He won't get it under a five-pound note, I can tell him. (_He makes his way to_ Miss SPELWANE.) I say, what do you think the old Bishop's been up to? Pitching into _Andromeda_ like the very dooce--says she's _sickly_!