“A bishop?” asked Fanny.

“Yes, indeed; there is no doubt that the dean will have the first bishopric that becomes vacant.  I have heard it publicly mentioned.”

“No, really!  I should never have thought of it,” said Fanny.  “But you are quite right.  Won’t he look noble with his imposing figure and white hair, and the gold cross shining on his breast?  It is a pity ours is not a cathedral town; a bishop is really so interesting.  For instance, in ‘Leonardo.’  Madeleine, have you ever seen a bishop?”

Madeleine turned towards her with a deep blush on her face, as she stammered out, “What were you asking, Fanny?”

But Fanny’s quick eye had already caught sight of Delphin, who was coming over from the other side of the street.  She returned his bow, and, observing Madeleine closely, said to her, “Will you be so good as to go and get a cup for Mr. Delphin?”

“Is he coming in?” said the chaplain, looking for his hat.

“Yes.  But I have not given you leave to go, Mr. Martens; we were getting on so nicely.”

Delphin came in, and Fanny gave him a friendly nod, and continued, “Now, in your position as clergyman, you really must assist us to effect Mr. Delphin’s conversion.”

“No necessity! no necessity, I assure you, Mrs. Garman,” said Delphin, gaily.  “My conversion is already about as perfect as it can be.  Mr. Johnsen and I have been conversing on the subject in a most serious manner for the last half-hour.”

“We were also talking on religious subjects,” said Fanny.

“Have you just left Mr. Johnsen?” asked the chaplain, who had got his hat, and was on the point of taking his leave.

“I walked with him a little way on the road to Sandsgaard.  It appears that he had an invitation to go there,” answered Delphin.

“To-day, again!” said Fanny.

“Good morning, ladies, good morning!  No, you really must allow me.  I have already been here longer than I ought.  Good morning, Miss Garman.”

Madeleine was just coming into the room, and the chaplain took a step towards her in order to shake her hand; but, as she was carrying the tray with the cups upon it, he was obliged to content himself with giving her a warm and respectful look.  As he went downstairs, he thought how unfortunate it was that Delphin should always be coming in his way.

Severin Martens was naturally very good-natured, but Delphin was a man he could not bear.  If the two got into conversation, everything seemed to go wrong for the chaplain.  The other had a particular way of taking up his words, turning them into ridicule, and exciting laughter among the hearers, which was most unpleasant.  The chaplain did not care very much, either, for Mr. Johnsen.  That apparently helpless young man had shown that he knew how to look after himself only too well.  “Invited nearly every day to Sandsgaard!  Hum!” muttered Martens, as he went down the street.