"Even so," said the bishop.
I tore it open. It contained only six lines. which were as follows:—
"Our mutual kind friend, the bishop, has proved to me how proud and how foolish I have been. Forgive me, dear Frank, for I too have suffered much; and come as soon as possible to your ever affectionate "Emily."
This, then, was the object of the venerable bishop's absence. Bending beneath age and infirmity, he had undertaken a journey of three hundred miles, in order to ensure the temporal as wellas eternal welfare of a perfect stranger—to effect a reconciliation, without which he saw that my worldly happiness was incomplete. I was afterwards informed, that notwithstanding the weight of his character and holy office, he had found Emily more decided in her rejection than he had anticipated; and it was not until he
