"I haven't many friends among the clergy," said Grafton. "One or two of my friends at Cambridge went into the Church, but I have lost track of them mostly, and I can't think of one who would be likely to want to come here. There is not much to offer, though I should be prepared to add to the stipend for a man who couldn't afford to take it as it is." He told them to what figure he would be willing to raise it, and the Bishop said that it would give a wider field of choice, as they need not think only about men who had money of their own. "What sort of a man would you like to have there?" he asked. "Don't tell any one that I asked that question, Leadbetter." "Certainly not," said the Rector of Surley. "I never make trouble for my Diocesan." Grafton did not quite see why the question should not have been asked. "All questions of High and Low, and that sort of thing, I leave to you," he said. "The sort of man I should like to have would be one who would get on well with his parishioners, and help to keep us all together." "Is that the sort of man you want, my dear?" asked the Bishop, turning his beneficent gaze upon Caroline. "I suppose you take an interest in the people around you." "What you really want is a Christian," said the Bishop's wife uncompromisingly. "I suppose there are a few in the Diocese, though I can't say I have met many of them." "My dear, my dear!" expostulated the Bishop. Caroline answered his question. "We haven't been here very long," she said, "but we have made a great many friends among our people. We should like to do a lot for them, and we would help anybody who came there to look after them." "That is a most laudable statement from a Squire's daughter," said the Bishop. "What sort of things do you want to do for your people?" "She has all sorts of plans," said Ella. "We have talked them over together. I want to do something of the same sort here when I get to know Mr. Leadbetter more." She threw a look at the mild gentleman, who was just then meditating the final relinquishment of his cigarette. "But there are more people at Abington than there are at Surley." "Do you mean blankets and coal?" asked the Bishop's wife, "or do you mean Chamber music and lectures on literature?" Mr. Leadbetter raised himself in his chair. "Ah! Chamber music!" he said, with a gleam of satisfaction behind his spectacles. "If only we could manage some Chamber music!" "Not a bit of use," said the Bishop's wife. "A nigger minstrel entertainment would go down much better." "Caroline wants to teach the children Morris dancing and all that sort of thing," said Grafton. "They have it in the village where my brother-in-law lives, and everybody enjoys it immensely." Caroline leaned forward. "Anything which will make us all happy together," she said. "There are a lot of things which can be done that we should all like doing, and that would go of themselves if they were once started."