'I--should--think--not!' replied Captain Pendle, smiling at the very idea; 'object to have the prettiest daughter-in-law in the county. You don't know what an eye for beauty the bishop has.' 'If you are so sure of his consent I wonder you did not tell him before,' pouted Mab. 'Aunty has been very angry at my keeping our engagement secret.' 'Darling, you know it isn't a secret. We told Cargrim, and when he is aware of it the whole town is. I didn't want to tell my father until I was sure you would marry me.' 'You have been sure of that for a long time.' 'In a sort of way,' asserted Captain Pendle; 'but I was not absolutely certain until I placed a ring on that pretty hand. Now I'll tell my father, get his episcopalian benediction, and wire the news to Lucy and the mater. We shall be married in spring. Miss Whichello will be the bridesmaid, and all will be hay and sunshine.' 'What nonsense you talk, George!' 'I'd do more than talk nonsense if the eyes of Europe were not on us. Mother Jael is telling fortunes in that tent, my fairy queen, so let us go in and question her about the future. Besides,' added George, with an insinuating smile, 'I don't suppose she would mind if I gave you one kiss.' Mab laughed and shook her head. 'You will have to dispense with both kiss and fortune for the present,' said she, 'for your father has this moment gone into the tent.' 'What! is Saul also among the prophets?' cried George, with uplifted eyebrows. 'Won't there be a shine in the tents of Shem when it is published abroad that Bishop Pendle has patronised the Witch of Endor. I wonder what he wants to know. Surely the scroll of his fortune is made up.' 'George,' said Mab, gravely, 'your father has been much worried lately.' 'About what? By whom?' 'I don't know, but he looks worried.' 'Oh, he is fidgeting because my mother is away; he always fusses about her health like a hen with one chick.' 'Be more respectful, my dear,' corrected Mab, demurely. 'I'll be anything you like, sweet prude, if you'll only fly with me far from this madding crowd. Hang it! here is someone coming to disturb us.' 'It is your brother.' 'So it is. Hullo, Gabriel, why that solemn brow?' 'I have just heard bad news,' said Gabriel, pausing before them. 'Old Mr Leigh is dying.' 'What! the rector of Heathcroft? I don't call that bad news, old boy, seeing that his death gives you your step.' 'George!' cried Mab and Gabriel in a breath, 'how can you?' 'Well, Leigh is old and ripe enough to die, isn't he?' said the incorrigible George. 'Remember what the old Scotch sexton said to the weeping mourners, "What are ye greeting aboot? If ye dinna bring them at eighty, when wull ye bring them?" My Scotch accent is bad,' added Captain Pendle, 'but the story itself is a thing of beauty.' 'I want to tell my father the news,' said Gabriel, indignantly turning away from George's wink. 'Where is he?'