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THE AUTHOR OF "TRIXIE"
The Archdeacon's heart began to pound. "Telephone to me, Prime Minister!" he cried. "Why to me?"
"Because I'm offering you the billet, of course," said the Prime Minister. "Are you for it, Archdeacon? Yes or no? We may as well settle the matter here and now. Come! Do you take Pontefract or don't you?"
"Yes," said the Archdeacon. "Thank you," he added, recollecting himself.
"Good!" cried the Prime Minister. "Then that's that. Consider yourself a bishop, my very dear sir. Good-bye, good-bye." He passed through the steel gate.
Chloë clapped her hands together.
"Oh," she cried, "how pleased dear mamma will be!"
"Yes," said Dunkle, "won't she?"
"I imagine," whispered Chloë to her
