'Certainly,' assented the bishop, dryly; 'but if I remember rightly, the Lord of Burleigh's bride sank under her burden of honours.' Bell tossed her head in spite of the bishop's presence. 'Oh, she had no backbone, not a bit. I've got heaps more sense than she had. But you mustn't think I want to run after gentlemen, sir. I have had plenty of offers; and I can get more if I want to. Gabriel has only to say the word and the engagement is off.' 'Indeed, I think that would be the wiser course,' replied the bishop, who wondered more and more what Gabriel could see in this commonplace beauty attractive to his refined nature, 'but I know that my son loves you dearly, and I wish to see him happy.' 'I hope you don't think I want to make him miserable, sir,' cried Bell, her colour and temper rising. 'No! no! Miss Mosk. But a matter like this requires reflection and consideration.' 'We have reflected, my lord. Gabriel and me's going to marry.' 'Indeed! will you not ask my consent?' 'I ask it now, sir! I'm sure,' said Bell, again becoming tearful, 'this ain't my idea of love-making, to be badgered into saying I'm not good enough for him. If he's a man let him marry me, if he's a worm he needn't. I've no call to go begging. No, indeed!' The bishop began to feel somewhat embarrassed, for Miss Mosk applied every word to herself in so personal a way, that whatever he said constituted a ground of offence, and he scarcely knew upon what lines to conduct so delicate a conversation. Also the girl was crying, and her tears made Dr Pendle fear that he was exercising his superiority in a brutal manner. Fortunately the conversation was brought abruptly to an end, for while the bishop was casting about how to resume it, the door opened softly and Mr Mosk presented himself. 'Father!' cried Bell, in anything but pleased tones. 'My gal!' replied Mosk, with husky tenderness--'and in tears. What 'ave you bin sayin' to her, sir?' he added, with a ferocious glance at Pendle. 'Hush, father! 'tis his lordship, the bishop.' 'I know'd the bishop's looks afore you was born, my gal,' said Mosk, playfully, 'and it's proud I am to see 'im under m' umble roof. Lor'! 'ere's a 'appy family meeting.' 'I think,' said the bishop, with a glance at Mosk to assure himself that the man was sober--'I think, Miss Mosk, that it is advisable your father and myself should have a few words in private.' 'I don't want father to interfere--' began Bell, when her parent gripped her arm, and cutting her short with a scowl conducted her to the door. 'Don't you git m' back up,' he whispered savagely, 'or you'll be cussedly sorry for yerself an' everyone else. Go to yer mother.' 'But, father, I--'