For the first time in her life she felt that her father might be her friend, her refuge in trouble. Hungry for sympathy and understanding,--she knew not how hungry till now,--she told her story, beginning impetuously and with starting tears. The bishop listened attentively to the facts, dismissing from his mind her point of view, her reasons for dissatisfaction with her life. Such crude immaturity he had encountered a thousand times, though he had never suspected it in her. The only facts that concerned him were: that the marriage had never really been consummated; that there was no question of a child to consider; that Felicity was anxious to escape from the man in whose clutches she had placed herself; and that there were grounds for divorce. Emmet himself might be induced--purchased--to bring action on the ground of desertion. To be sure, such a cause was not acknowledged by the Church as valid, but the bishop was prepared to lay aside his prejudice in this particular case. Not for a moment did he think of holding his daughter to her mistake, as soon as he knew the facts in the case. But she made no mention of Leigh. As the dangers with which he had at first seen himself threatened became less formidable, and the way of escape suggested itself, his wonder at her stupendous selfishness increased. What manner of woman had he reared and educated with such care? In spite of the restraints of his questions and comments, incredulous scorn was written in his expression and in the gleam of his eyes. It was much that she had not been physically coarse, but her psychic equation was beyond his solving. Felicity could not fail to be conscious of this growing antagonism, and the warmth of emotion with which she had begun her explanation cooled with every word. Her gratitude vanished, to give way to implacable resentment at his attitude of virtuous superiority. Her judgment of him was no less bitter than that she received. Angry reproaches would have stung her less than this courteous contempt. "And how many persons are in this secret?" he asked finally. "Mr. Emmet has taken Mr. Leigh into his confidence, I believe," she answered, a faint colour creeping into her face. "Ah, Leigh," he returned, thrown off his guard by surprise. He thought he saw now what her intimacy with the young professor really meant. She was pledging him to secrecy, and the young man had now the motive of revenge to turn and reveal what he knew. "It would perhaps be better to keep him in the college, after all," he mused. "What do you mean, father?" she demanded. "To keep him in the college? You had n't asked him to go?" To this question he made no reply, but she saw confusion plainly written in his face. "I naturally supposed that he was a fortune hunter"--