The two men looked at him with growing suspicion, then his lordship
said in austere tones, "So I should imagine, Mr. Bishop." He turned
to his companion. "Shall we get back to dinner, Mr. Windle?"
They moved to the vestry door.
"Mr. Bishop," he said, turning round as they departed, "I would
advise you to go back quietly to the vicarage."
Then the door closed and the little man sat down upon the nearest
form. The bishop would never hear of his little alterations now; he
would never think well of them, even if he did.
He burst into tears, and for some moments sat there with his head
buried in his hands. Then he looked up, saw the bread which also had
been kept over from the service, and, reaching forward, began
pathetically to put the little squares one by one into his mouth.
CHAPTER V
That incident in itself is sufficient. There is no need to lead a
way down the steps that brought the Rev. Samuel Bishop to his final
degradation and ultimate death. The generous offer of the chaplaincy
of a small union, the withdrawal of his son from Oxford, the dismissal
of the tutelary services of the lady who had charge of his daughter's
education, the replacing of a better man in the rectory at
Cailsham--all these stages of the little tragedy have no intimate
importance in themselves, except that they formed the first
evolutionary periods of the development of Sally's life.
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