Sixty--when meted out, it did not seem quite so much as
he had expected. The silver wine-ewer was only a little more than
half full. Supposing there were not enough. He would have to go over
the consecration part of the service again. That would make them very
late. The bishop might be annoyed if he were kept waiting for his
dinner. His lordship was a rigid Churchman, inclined to be somewhat
High Church in his ideas. It was certain that food would not have
passed his lips since the previous night. It would be a pity to find
the Bishop annoyed, just when he had the opportunity of speaking to
him about those little alterations of his own invention, which he
felt sure would raise him in his lordship's estimation.
Perhaps it would be wiser to add a little more wine. It was Easter
Sunday. Many members of the congregation were farmers and farm
labourers. He had vivid remembrances in his mind of having forcibly
to take the cup from the lips of such as these. They meant no
irreverence by it, of course. He imagined it to be habit in great
part with them, and a smile flickered over his face as the thought
crossed his mind.
Yes--certainly, he had better add a little more wine--just a little.
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