As a rule, Mr Cargrim did not come to afternoon tea, but on this occasion he presented himself; ostensibly to welcome back his patron, in reality to watch him. Also he was determined, at the very first opportunity, to introduce the name of Jentham and observe what effect it had on the bishop. With these little plans in his mind the chaplain crept about the tea-table like a tame cat, and handed round cake and bread with his most winning smile. His pale face was even more inexpressive than usual, and none could have guessed, from outward appearance, his malicious intents--least of all the trio he was with. They were too upright themselves to suspect evil in others. 'I am so glad to see you are better, bishop,' said Mrs Pendle, languidly trifling with a cup of tea. 'Your journey has done you good.' 'Change of air, change of air, my dear. A wonderful restorative.' 'Your business was all right, I hope?' 'Oh, yes! Indeed, I hardly went up on business, and what I did do was a mere trifle,' replied the bishop, smoothing his apron. 'Has Gabriel been here to-day?' he added, obviously desirous of turning the conversation. 'Twice!' said Lucy, who presided over the tea-table; 'and the second time he told mamma that he had received a letter from George.' 'Ay, ay! a letter from George. Is he quite well, Lucy?' 'We shall see that for ourselves this evening, papa. George is coming to Beorminster, and will be here about ten o'clock to-night.' 'How vexing!' exclaimed Dr Pendle. 'I intended going over to Southberry this evening, but I can't miss seeing George.' 'Ride over to-morrow morning, bishop,' suggested his wife. 'Sunday morning, my dear!' 'Well, papa!' said Lucy, smiling, 'you are not a strict Sabbatarian, you know.' 'I am not so good as I ought to be, my dear,' said Dr Pendle, playfully pinching her pretty ear. 'Well! well! I must see George. I'll go to-morrow morning at eight o'clock. You'll send a telegram to Mr Vasser to that effect, if you please, Mr Cargrim. Say that I regret not being able to come to-night.' 'Certainly, my lord. In any case, I am going in to Beorminster this evening.' 'You are usually more stay-at-home, Mr Cargrim. Thank you, Lucy, I will take another cup of tea.' 'I do not care for going out at night as a rule, my lord, observed the chaplain, in his most sanctimonious tone, 'but duty calls me into Beorminster. I am desirous of comforting poor sick Mrs Mosk at The Derby Winner.' 'Oh, that is Gabriel's pet invalid,' cried Lucy, peering into the teapot; 'he says Mrs Mosk is a very good woman.' 'Let us hope so,' observed the bishop, stirring his new cup of tea. 'I do not wish to be uncharitable, my dear, but if Mrs Pansey is to be believed, that public-house is not conducted so carefully as it should be.' 'But _is_ Mrs Pansey to be believed, bishop?' asked his wife, smiling. 'I don't think she would tell a deliberate falsehood, my love.'