“Oh, a great loss!” cried the Canon, with conviction. “I was terribly distressed when I heard of the sad event.” “Are there any golf-links at Barchester?” asked Lord Spratte, with a glance at his brother. Railing looked at him with surprise, naturally not catching the purport of this question. “I really don’t know.” Then he gave Canon Spratte a smile. “I hear it’s being suggested that you may go there.” Canon Spratte received the suggestion without embarrassment. “It would require a great deal to tear me away from St. Gregory’s,” he answered, gravely. “I’m thoroughly attached to the parish.” “I don’t know what they would do without you here.” “Of course no man is indispensable in this world; but I don’t know that I should consider myself fit to take so large and important a See as that of Barchester.” Winnie took her uncle some tea and sat down beside him. “What d’you think of Mr. Railing?” she asked, abruptly. “Smells of public spirit, don’t he? He’s the sort of chap that has statistics scribbled all over his shirt-cuffs.” His jaw dropped. “And his shirt-cuffs take off.” “Why shouldn’t they?” asked Winnie, flushing. “My dear, there’s no reason at all. Nor have I ever been able to discover why you shouldn’t eat peas with a knife or assassinate your grandmother. But I notice there is a prejudice against these things.” “I think he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever seen in my life.” “Do you, by Jove!” cried Lord Spratte. “Have you told your father?” Winnie gave him a defiant look. “No, but I mean to. You all think I’m still a child. You none of you understand that I’m a woman.” “I notice your sex generally claims to be misunderstood when it has a mind to do something particularly foolish.” “I wish you had heard him speak. I could hardly control myself.” “Because he dropped his aitches?” “Of course not. Can’t you see he’s a gentleman?” “I’m so short-sighted,” replied Lord Spratte, dryly. “And I haven’t my opera-glasses with me.” Winnie rose impatiently and walked over to her father. Lord Spratte watched her with some curiosity, and he caught Railing’s glance as she came up. His lips formed themselves into a whistle. He chuckled as he thought of Theodore’s consternation if what he suspected proved true. “I’m so sorry that a perfectly unavoidable engagement prevented me from coming to hear you speak,” the Canon said, in his politest way. “It was splendid,” cried Winnie, enthusiastically, forgetting already her uncle’s sneer. “I’m never going to touch alcohol again.” Railing looked at her gratefully, and his eyes were full of passionate admiration. “Capital, capital!” burst out the Canon, patting his friend on the back. “You’re an orator, Railing.” “You should have seen the audience,” said Winnie. “While Mr. Railing spoke you could have heard a pin drop. And when he finished they broke into such a storm of applause that I thought the roof was coming down.”