"Yes, miss, of course I have! Wasn't I confirmed by one? He was tall and solemn and had a thin grey beard. He reminded me somehow--it wasn't his legs--of a picture in my father's big family bible of the goat that was sent out by the Children of Israel into the wilderness." "The scape-goat that had to bear the sins of the people," said Eola, her eyes wandering through the house to the front verandah where she could see her guest in the distance absorbed in his letters. "Yes, miss. The bishop was just like the picture. Hadn't he got to bear the sins of his people? and a very serious business it was too. When he confirmed me he gave me clean sheets and started me afresh; he took my sins on him. I shouldn't like to be a bishop considering all he has to bear and wear. The gaiters and the tights would be enough to put one off the job, even though the apron does lend a little decency to the style. As William--that was my third--used to say: 'All are not saints who go to church, or bishops and padres would have an easy time of it.'" During this speech Eola's attention again wandered. Mr. Alderbury was still busy with his letters. As soon as he had finished reading his correspondence she intended joining him. "Then that's all for this morning," she said, as Mrs. Hulver came to an end of her dissertation on church dignitaries. "You haven't ordered the pudding, miss." She made the announcement in the same manner in which she might have said, "You haven't said your prayers, miss." "I'm so sorry. What has cook brought? Green mangoes? Yes; they will do nicely stewed; and a custard pudding." "Custard pudding!" repeated Mrs. Hulver with disdain. "It's the pudding Mr. Alderbury gets every other day of his life! and him with the tastes of a bishop!" "Then I leave it to you, Mrs. Hulver. Now let me finish with the accounts." Mrs. Hulver was more vigilant than ever this morning over Ramachetty's charges. Miss Wenaston was clearly not fit for the matutinal crossing of swords with the sharp-witted butler, and it was the housekeeper's duty to intervene and protect. "As William--that was my third--used to say: 'It's fatal to go into action unless you've got your wits about you and your guns are in good order,'" remarked Mrs. Hulver when she had checked the butler for the third time. Eola did not see the point of her remark and Mrs. Hulver made no attempt to explain. The bazaar account book was closed with relief, and the butler and cook dismissed. "How is young William getting on?" asked Eola, preparatory to dismissing her housekeeper as well. "He is nearly well, though I can't get the colour of his eye down altogether. What his colonel will say to him to-morrow I don't know. He will have to be told the truth if he asks about the black eye."