Mark began to feel uncomfortable, and he thought by the way Father Rowley was puffing his cheeks that he too was beginning to feel uncomfortable.  The Missioner looked as if he was blowing away the lather of the soap that the Bishop was using upon him so prodigally.

“Some other time, Mr. Rowley, when I have a little leisure. . . .  I perceive the need of making myself acquainted with every side of my new diocese—­a little leisure, yes . . . sometime I should like to have a long talk with you about all the details of your work at Chatsea, of which as I said Canon Whymper has spoken to me most enthusiastically.  The question, however, immediately before us this morning is the licence of your new church.  Since writing to you first I have thought the matter over most earnestly.  I have given the matter the gravest consideration.  I have consulted Canon Whymper and I have come to the conclusion that bearing all the circumstances in mind it will be wiser for you to apply, and I hope be granted, a new licence.  With this decision in my mind I asked Canon Whymper in his capacity as Rural Dean to report upon the new church.  Mr. Rowley, his report is extremely favourable.  He writes to me of the noble fabric, noble is the actual epithet he employs, yes, the very phrase.  He expresses his conviction that you are to be congratulated, most warmly congratulated, Mr. Rowley, upon your vigorous work.  I believe I am right in saying that all the money necessary to erect this noble edifice has been raised by yourself?”

“Not all of it,” said Father Rowley.  “I still owe L3,000.”

“A mere trifle,” said the Bishop, dismissing the sum with the airy gesture of a conjurer who palms a coin.  “A mere trifle compared with what you have already raised.  I know that at the moment there is no question of constituting as a parish what is at present merely a district; but such a contingency must be borne in mind by both of us, and inasmuch as that would imply consecration by myself I am unwilling to prejudice any decision I might have to take later, should the necessity for consecration arise, by allowing you at the moment a wider latitude than I might be prepared to allow you in the future.  Yes, Canon Whymper writes most enthusiastically of the noble fabric.”  The Bishop paused, drummed with his fingers on the arm of his chair as if he were testing the pitch of his instrument, and then taking a deep breath boomed forth:  “But Mr. Rowley, in his report he informs me that in the middle of the south aisle exists an altar or Holy Table expressly and exclusively designed for what he was told are known as masses for the dead.”

“That is perfectly true,” said Father Rowley.