"Well then," said the bishop, folding his arms and smiling effusively, but with a gentle curbing of his ordinary cheerfulness, "I will inform you that I have an uncle who is a man of wealth and well on in years. Unfortunately, or fortunately it may be, this uncle greatly dislikes me. He objects so strongly to my methods of thought and action, and even to my physical presence, that he cannot bear to hear me speak or even to look at me, and the last time I was in his company, about four years ago, he told me that he would leave me a legacy on condition that he should never hear from me or see me again. He promised to make the proper provision in his will immediately, but declared, and I know he will keep his word, that if he ever received a letter from me or even saw me or heard my voice he would instantly strike out that clause. I appreciated and respected his feelings, and accepted the condition. From that moment I have not written to him, nor shall I ever write to him, and I shall never go near him so long as he is alive. As I said, he is of advanced age, and it is impossible that he can long survive. When his demise takes place my circumstances will, I believe, be satisfactory." "Did your uncle say how much he would leave you?" asked Mrs. Archibald. "No, madam," returned the other, "he did not, but I feel sure that the sum will be measured by his satisfaction in knowing that his existence is entirely freed from me." "Really," said Mrs. Archibald, "there is nothing about you so indefinite as your prospects." "And it seems horrible to me," said Margery, "to be hoping that some one may die in order that you may be better off, for, as you want money so much, you must hope that your uncle will die." The bishop smiled and rose. "And now," said he, "I suppose I must go to prepare the dinner at Camp Roy. There is nobody but myself to eat it, but I have assumed the duty, and it must be performed. Good-morning. By your leave, I shall look in upon you again." Mrs. Archibald had a mind to ask him to stay and dine with them, but having noticed an unfriendly expression on the face of Martin when his gloomy walk brought him in her direction, she thought it would not be wise to do so. CHAPTER XI MARGERY TAKES THE OARS After dinner Mrs. Archibald prepared herself for a nap, the most delightful thing she could think of during the warm hours of such a day. Margery, after seeing the elder lady comfortably disposed in the shady sitting-room of the cabin, went out-of-doors with no doubt in her mind as to what would be for her the most delightful thing to do. She would take a row on the lake all by herself. She went down to the boat, which was partly drawn up on the beach and fastened to a heavy stake. But when she reached it she was disgusted to find that the chain was secured to the stake by a padlock. The oars were in the boat, and she could easily have pushed it into the water, but she could not set it free without the key to the padlock.