They have been looking forward to this Easter for so long now. Poor
dears!"
Father Rowley sighed out the last ejaculation to himself, and his sigh
ran through the Bishop's opulent library like a dull wind. Mark had a
mad impulse to tell the Bishop the story of his father and the Lima
Street Mission. His father had resigned on Palm Sunday. Oh, this ghastly
dream. . . . Father Rowley leave Chatsea! It was unimaginable. . . .
But the Bishop was overthrowing the work of ten years with apparently as
little consciousness of the ruin he was creating as a boar that has
rooted up an ant-heap with his snout.
"Quite so. Quite so, Mr. Rowley. I certainly see your point," the Bishop
declared. "I will do my best to secure a priest, but meanwhile . . . let
me see. I need scarcely say how painful your decision has been, what
pain it has caused me. Let me see, yes, in the circumstances I agree
with you that it would be inadvisable to postpone the opening. I think
from every point of view it would be wisest to proceed according to
schedule. Could not this altar or Holy Table be railed off temporarily,
I do not say muffled up, but could not some indication be given of the
fact that I do not sanction its use? In that case I should have no
objection, indeed on the contrary I should be only too happy for you to
carry on with your work either until I can find a temporary substitute
or until the Silchester College authorities can appoint a new missioner.
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