She succeeded in stammering some conventional expressions of pleasure at being presented, and then lapsed into ignominious silence. "Mrs Edmondson has kindly expressed herself very interested in my poor parish," explained the Parson, "just as your Highness has been interested. I wrote to you a month ago to Aix-les-Bains, thanking you for your generous donation towards our Children's Holiday Fund. It was really extremely kind of you." "Oh, don't mention it, Mr Clayton," replied his Highness. "I've been in your parish twice, remember, and I know well how very hard you work, and what a number of the deserving poor you have. I'm just going down in the town for a stroll. Perhaps I'll see you after lunch? Come to my room for a smoke." And then, bowing to the obese widow, he replaced his grey felt hat and strode out. "What a very charming man!" declared the widow when she recovered herself sufficiently to speak. "So he has been to your parish!" "Oh, yes. He gives me most liberal donations," answered Clayton in a low tone of confidence. "But he always prefers to remain anonymous, of course. He has been my best friend for years. I had no idea he was in England. He wrote me last from Aix." But the widow's brain was already active. Though possessing a deep religious feeling, and subscribing liberally to all sorts of charities just as her late husband had done, she was nevertheless a snob, and was already wondering whether, with the assistance of the pleasant-faced cleric, she could not induce the Prince to be her guest at Milnthorpe. She knew that his presence there would give to her house a _cachet_ which had always been lacking, and would raise her social position in the select county of Yorks a hundred per cent. "Most delightful man!" she repeated as they went forth into the grounds. "I hope I shall have the pleasure of a long chat with him." "Oh, that won't be very difficult, my dear Mrs Edmondson," her companion replied. "Any one introduced by me will, I feel assured, be received most cordially by him. He does me the honour of reposing the most implicit trust in myself." "A trust which certainly is not misplaced," declared the stout widow in her self-satisfied way, as she strutted along in a new grey cotton gown of latest _mode_, a large hat to match, a big golden chatelaine at her side, and a blue silk sunshade. "You are very flattering," replied Clayton. "I--I fear I do not deserve such kind words, I only do my duty to my bishop and my parish, and prosecute the line of life which Providence has laid out for me." "There are clergymen--and clergymen," the woman said with affected wisdom. "I have known more than one who has been utterly worthless. It is, therefore, very gratifying to meet a man with such a high mind, and such a keen sense of responsibility towards his poor backsliding fellow creatures as yourself."