"It was surely better to take so difficult a matter to a friend of yours, rather than to an enemy." Meynell smiled--but not agreeably. "Any one else?" "I have heard this morning on my way here that Miss Nairn has received a copy." "Miss Nairn? That means the village." "She is a gossipping woman," said Barron. Meynell pondered. He got up and began to pace the room--coming presently to an abrupt pause in front of his visitor. "This story then is now all over the village--will soon be all over the diocese. Now--what was your object in yourself bringing it to me?" "I thought it right to inform you--to give you warning--perhaps also to suggest to you that a retreat from your present position--" "I see--you thought it a means of bringing pressure to bear upon me?--you propose, in short, that I should throw up the sponge, and resign my living?" "Unless, of course, you can vindicate yourself publicly." Barron to his annoyance could not keep his hand which held a glove from shaking a little. The wrestle between their personalities was rapidly growing in intensity. "Unless I bring an action, you mean--against any one spreading the story? No--I shall not bring an action--I shall _not_ bring an action!" Meynell repeated, with emphasis. "In that case--I suggest--it might be better to meet the wishes of your Bishop, and so avoid further publicity." "By resigning my living?" "Precisely. The scandal would then drop of itself. For Miss Puttenham's sake alone you must, I think, desire to stop its development." Meynell flushed hotly. He took another turn up the room--while Barron sat silent, looking straight before him. "I shall not take action"--Meynell resumed--"and I shall not dream of retreating from my position here. Judith Sabin's story is untrue. She did not see me at Grenoble and I am not the father of Hester Fox-Wilton. As to anything else, I am not at liberty to discuss other people's affairs, and I shall not answer any questions whatever on the subject." The two men surveyed each other. "Your Bishop could surely demand your confidence," said Barron coldly. "If he does, it will be for me to consider." A silence. Barron looked round for his stick. Meynell stood motionless, his hands in his baggy pockets, his eyes on Barron. Lightings of thought and will seemed to pass through his face. As Barron rose, he began to speak.