"A most unpleasant--a most painful scene. I confess, Mr. Barron, I think it would have been far better if you had avoided it." Barron held himself rigidly erect. "My lord, my one object from the beginning has been to force Meynell into the open. For his own sake--for the parish's--the situation must be brought to an end, in some way. The indecency of it at present is intolerable." "You forget. The trial is only a few weeks off. Meynell will certainly be deprived." "No doubt. But then there is the Privy Council Appeal. And even when he is deprived, Meynell does not mean to leave the village. He has made all his arrangements to stay and defy the judgment. We _must_ prove to him, even if we have to do it with what looks like harshness, that until he clears himself of this business this diocese at least will have none of him!" "Why, the great majority of the people adore him!" cried the Bishop. "And meanwhile I understand the other poor things are already driven away. They tell me the Fox-Wiltons' house is to let, and Miss Puttenham gone to Paris indefinitely." Barron slightly shrugged his shoulders. "We are all very sorry for them, my lord. It is indeed a sad business. But we must remember at the same time that all these persons have been in a conspiracy together to impose a falsehood on their neighbours; and that for many years we have been admitting Miss Puttenham to our house and our friendship--to the companionship of our daughters--in complete ignorance of her character." "Oh, poor thing! poor thing!" said the Bishop hastily. "The thought of her haunts me. She must know what is going on--or a great deal of it--though indeed I hope she doesn't--I hope with all my heart she doesn't! Well, now, Mr. Barron--you have written me long letters--and I trust that you will allow me a little close inquiry into some of these matters." "The closer the better, my lord." "You have not as yet come to any opinion whatever as to the authorship of these letters?" Barron looked troubled. "I am entirely at a loss," he said, emphatically. "Once or twice I have thought myself on the track. There is that man East, whose license Meynell opposed--" "One of the 'aggrieved parishioners'," said the Bishop, raising his hands and eyebrows. "You regret, my lord, that we should be mixed up with such a person? So do I. But with a whole parish in a conspiracy to support the law-breaking that was going on, what could we do? However, that is not now the point. I have suspected East. I have questioned him. He showed extraordinary levity, and was--to myself personally--what I can only call insolent. But he swore to me that he had not written the letters; and indeed I am convinced that he could not have written them. He is almost an illiterate--can barely read and write. I still suspect him. But if he is in it, it is only as a tool of some one else." "And the son--Judith Sabin's son?"