"I don't see why. Certainly he hasn't learned the first word of the philosophy of life who still confounds what he desires and what he deserves." "Come, Helen," put in Mrs. Fenton; "I wouldn't have suspected you of trying to pose as a belated remnant of the Concord School." Ashe easily perceived that the hostess was becoming more and more uneasy at the course of the discussion. He could see too that Mr. Candish was growing graver, and his sallow face beginning to flush through its thin skin. It was evident that Mrs. Fenton saw and appreciated these signs, and wished to change the subject of conversation. Philip wondered that she took the matter so gravely, but cast about in his own mind for the means of helping her. Before he could think of anything to say his cousin had started a fresh topic. "By the way," she asked, "who is to be bishop?" Candish shook his head with a grave smile. "We should be relieved if we knew," was his answer. "There's a great deal being done to defeat Father Frontford," Ashe added; "but the lay delegates haven't been chosen." "The friends of Mr. Strathmore are working very hard," observed Mrs. Fenton. "It would be a great misfortune if they were to succeed." "But I suppose the friends of Father Frontford are at work too?" returned Helen. Ashe thought that he detected a faint trace of satire in her voice, and he turned toward her with earnest gravity. "It is not to be supposed," he answered, "that the friends of the church are idle at a time of so much importance. Mr. Strathmore is really little better than a Unitarian; or at least he is so lax that he gives the world that opinion." He felt that this was a reply which must end all inclination to raillery on her part. He began to feel fresh sympathy with the disturbance of Mr. Candish earlier in the dinner. The matter now was to him so vital that he could not talk of it except with the greatest gravity. He watched Helen closely to discover if she were disposed to smile at his reply. He could detect no ridicule in her expression, although she did not seem much impressed with the weight of the charge he had brought against Mr. Strathmore, the popular candidate for the bishopric of the diocese, then vacant. "Mrs. Chauncy Wilson is doing a good deal," Mrs. Fenton remarked, glancing smilingly at Helen. "Oh, yes," responded the other. "I remember now that she declined to be on a committee for the picture-show because, as she said, she had to run the campaign for the bishop." "The expression," Candish began, rather stiffly, "is somewhat"-- "It is hers, not mine," Helen replied. "I should not have chosen the phrase myself." "It is singular," Mrs. Fenton said thoughtfully, "how little general interest there is in this matter of the choice of a bishop." "And what there is," Mrs. Herman put in with a faint suspicion of raillery in her tone, "comes from the fact that Mr. Strathmore is popular as a radical."