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THE AUTHOR OF "TRIXIE"
reputable Vicar of Old Kensington proclaim himself a romancer, if ever, at any rate, he meant to be a bishop. And he meant most resolutely to be a bishop; if not an archbishop. His wife wished it. But that was nothing. He wished it himself.
He was sufficiently well read to be aware that at least two of England's greatest novelists have been clergymen of her Church; but what, he felt, was all very well for cock-fighting, three-bottle, eighteenth-century clerics (a Dean though one of them might be) was not at all well for a modern metropolitan archdeacon, who had edited Lactantius and published his thoughts about Heaven and meant to be a bishop.
No.
Even had his novel been of a religious character the thing was impossible. And
