One of the ladies, at Mrs. Fetherel's approach, uttered an exclamation of pleasure and advanced with outstretched hand. "My dear Mrs. Fetherel! I am so delighted to see you here. May I hope you are going to the unveiling of the chantry window? The dear Bishop so hoped that you would do so! But perhaps I ought to introduce myself. I am Mrs. Gollinger"--she lowered her voice expressively--"one of your uncle's oldest friends, one who has stood close to him through all this sad business, and who knows what he suffered when he felt obliged to sacrifice family affection to the call of duty." Mrs. Fetherel, who had smiled and colored slightly at the beginning of this speech, received its close with a deprecating gesture. "Oh, pray don't mention it," she murmured. "I quite understood how my uncle was placed--I bore him no ill will for feeling obliged to preach against my book." "He understood that, and was so touched by it! He has often told me that it was the hardest task he was ever called upon to perform--and, do you know, he quite feels that this unexpected gift of the chantry window is in some way a return for his courage in preaching that sermon." Mrs. Fetherel smiled faintly. "Does he feel that?" "Yes; he really does. When the funds for the window were so mysteriously placed at his disposal, just as he had begun to despair of raising them, he assured me that he could not help connecting the fact with his denunciation of your book." "Dear uncle!" sighed Mrs. Fetherel. "Did he say that?" "And now," continued Mrs. Gollinger, with cumulative rapture--"now that you are about to show, by appearing at the ceremony to-day, that there has been no break in your friendly relations, the dear Bishop's happiness will be complete. He was so longing to have you come to the unveiling!" "He might have counted on me," said Mrs. Fetherel, still smiling. "Ah, that is so beautifully forgiving of you!" cried Mrs. Gollinger, enthusiastically. "But then, the Bishop has always assured me that your real nature was very different from that which--if you will pardon my saying so--seems to be revealed by your brilliant but--er--rather subversive book. 'If you only knew my niece, dear Mrs. Gollinger,' he always said, 'you would see that her novel was written in all innocence of heart;' and to tell you the truth, when I first read the book I didn't think it so very, _very_ shocking. It wasn't till the dear Bishop had explained tome--but, dear me, I mustn't take up your time in this way when so many others are anxious to have a word with you." Mrs. Fetherel glanced at her in surprise, and Mrs. Gollinger continued, with a playful smile: "You forget that your face is familiar to thousands whom you have never seen. We all recognized you the moment you entered the train, and my friends here are so eager to make your acquaintance--even those"--her smile deepened--"who thought the dear Bishop not _quite unjustified_ in his attack on your remarkable novel." V