His Lordship's Leopard Part 37

"Yes," said the Bishop; "that's just the point."

"You ought to marry at once."

"I feel that myself; but then, you see, there's no one who would care to marry me--no one at least who--"

"You don't want a young chit."

"No," said his Lordship. "Somebody more like you."

Mrs. Mackintosh paused in her gardening.

"Look here," she said. "Are you going to propose to me next?"

"I--was--thinking of it," admitted the Bishop.

"As a last resource?"

"My dear Mrs. Mackintosh!"

"I don't know as I ever could be a bishopess," replied that lady, inadvertently resetting a pea-plant upside down.

"There's Jonah," said the Bishop, resorting to diplomacy. "I shall never be able to complete that last volume without the spur of your appreciative criticism."

"Well," she replied, partially relenting, "I'd do a good deal for--Jonah."

"Then you will!" he cried.

"I've one row of those peas left," she returned, "and when I've reset them I'll give you your answer. That'll be in fifteen minutes. Now go away, or you'll fidget round, and I sha'n't get 'em straight." And without another word she resumed her digging.

Fifteen minutes later his Lordship was at her side.

"There's one more plant left," remarked Mrs. Mackintosh, cleaning her trowel and addressing herself to the task.

"And are you going to say Yes when you have finished?"

"Yes," said the lady, "I am, but it's mostly on account of Jonah."

The Bishop ruthlessly set his foot on the tender shoot which intervened between him and happiness, crushing it to the earth.

Some time later Mrs. Mackintosh remarked:

"The cathedral clock is striking twelve, and you're due in the study."

"You mean, my dear, that _we_ are due," replied his Lordship.

On their arrival in the Bishop's sanctum, they found the full force of the company a.s.sembled to receive them.

Miss Matilda looked on this gathering with suspicion.

"I do not see," she said, "the need of so many witnesses to what must prove, I fear, a humiliating confession."

"I've come," returned Mrs. Mackintosh, "to lend moral support to--" She glanced at the Bishop, changed her mind, and supplemented--"Miss Arminster."

"Shall I speak?" asked Miss Matilda, ignoring her remark.

"I will speak," said his Lordship. "It is my house, and my place to do so."

His sister sat down hurriedly.

"I've sent for you, my dear," he continued, turning to Violet, "because certain charges have been made against you by Mr. Marchmont and--others, and, as my son informs me that you contemplate marrying Mr. Spotts, and asking me to perform the ceremony, I feel it is my duty--"

"She's already--" broke in his sister.

"I am speaking, Matilda," he said quietly, and she collapsed.

"You mustn't think," he went on, "that my asking you to explain your position implies any belief on my part in the charges made against you.

I've only requested this interview because I thought you'd like an opportunity to disprove idle gossip."

"It's very kind of you," she replied, "and I shall avail myself of it gladly."

"Quite so. Now my sister tells me that she's seen, in a neighbouring church, the record of your marriage to Mr. Spotts. Is this so?"

"Certainly," said Violet. "I married him there in 1895."

Miss Matilda sniffed viciously.

"Mr. Marchmont," continued the Bishop, "in whose statements, I need hardly say, I place no reliance, informed my sister that you had been married with unusual frequency; and my son tells me, also, that you've admitted to him a--er--a considerable number of--er--matrimonial alliances. Would you--er--er--consider it an intrusion on my part if I asked how many times you have been married?"

"I've had the marriage service performed over me," she replied, "thirty-seven times in four years."

Miss Matilda threw up her hands in an access of horror.

"But your husbands--" stammered his Lordship.

"I never had but one husband," she said. "And here he stands." And she took Spotts's hand in hers.

"Bless my soul!" exclaimed the Bishop. "You surely haven't married him thirty-seven times?"

"Yes, that is exactly the case," she returned.

"But I don't understand."

"The explanation is very simple," she replied. "My husband and I are both actors. He plays the part of the hero, and I the part of the heroine. In the fifth act, after many struggles and disappointments, we're at last united. To have the marriage ceremony actually performed on the stage, or the next day at church, has always proved a great attraction to our audiences. At first I objected. But I've been informed by a competent authority in my own country that there's no canonical rule against it, and in remarrying my husband I merely renew my vows to him, and I've never once gone through the ceremony lightly or thoughtlessly. I do not defend the practice, or expect you to approve of it, and, now that you know the truth, I shouldn't think of asking you to marry us again; but I don't consider that I've done anything of which I need be ashamed."

"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "In my ecclesiastical position I can hardly approve of the course you've taken; but as a man--well, it's a great relief to me."

"I consider it a sacrilege," exclaimed Miss Matilda, "and, as I remarked to Cecil this morning, that young person leaves the palace to-day, or I do!"