Fine weather had set in so early that year that tennis and croquet courts had already been marked out, and they played lawn tennis after luncheon. The court was visible from the road, little frequented, that ran through the park, and by and by the Vicar himself came along it, with his wife, and called out to announce that he was coming in. "That's because he sees you here, Ella," said Beatrix. "He has rather left off inviting himself in that way. He will want to know if the Bishop has dropped any hints. Couldn't you possibly make up a few?" There was a slight gleam in Ella Carruthers's eye as she took the suggestion, though there was no time to reply to it, for the Vicar was already approaching, pomposity clothing him like a garment, his smiling, good-natured little wife by his side. The game, which was nearly finished, was dropped by consent, and the Vicar, after requesting that it should be continued, but not pressing the point, was content to be surrounded by them on the seats that were disposed at the edge of the lawn. "We were _so_ sorry to hear of dear old Mr. Cooper's death," said Mrs. Mercer to Ella. "I'm sure it seems no time since he was as well and strong as anybody. I could hardly believe it when I heard it." "It has been expected for a long time," said her husband. "He has passed away in the ripeness of his years, and there is no need to repine. We went over this morning to offer our sympathy to those who are left behind. They are bearing up very well, I am happy to say. But you had just been to see them yourself, Mrs. Carruthers. They were much gratified by your kind visit, and I hear that his Lordship is to come over and take part in the funeral." "Yes, I believe so," said Ella. "I hope to get him to stay the night with me. It is some time since he came to see me, and we shall have a good deal to talk over." "Ah!" said the Vicar, with semi-archness. "I know how much he values your advice. He has told me so himself." "Really, Albert?" queried Mrs. Mercer, much interested. "You never told me that." The Vicar looked slightly annoyed. "It was when I was over at the Palace," he said somewhat inadequately; and turned to Ella again. "It is rather pathetic," he said, "the way those poor girls cling to the idea that their young brother may be appointed to succeed their father. They even gain some encouragement from something that you let fall, as to his Lordship's intentions, no doubt with the idea of comforting them. But it would never do, you know. No Bishop in these days could afford to make such an appointment. It would create a scandal." "Didn't you say, Albert, that it would amount almost to the sin of simony?" enquired Mrs. Mercer. "Oh! good heavens, Ella!" exclaimed Grafton. "Do preserve your uncle from the sin of simony. That would be too awful."