THE REV. JOHN RUSSELL. 85 



" ' Nothing serious, I hope ? ' said the bishop, 

 taking a seat in the state apartment ; and if 

 so, I daresay he would not object to see me 

 at his bedside.' 



"Jane paused for a moment, and then, with 

 some hesitation, rephed, ' Perhaps not, my lord : 

 leastwise, if you bean't afeered o' going there. 

 'Tis a fairer o' some soart, but I can't mind 

 what the doctor call'th it.' 



" The bishop cocked his ear and looked 

 uneasy. ' A fever, did you say ? Rheumatic, 

 perhaps, from exposure to wet ? ' 



" ' No, no ; I've got that myself bad enough. 

 'Tis something a deal worse, I reckon.' 



" ' Not scarlet fever, I hope ? ' 



The housekeeper shook her head despond- 

 ingly. ' Worse than that, my lord.' 



"'Typhus?' inquired the bishop, no longer 

 able to hide his look of alarm. 



" ' Iss, that's it ; seem'th to me that's what 

 the doctor ca'd it. 'Tis a whisht job, fai.' 



" The bishop clutched his hat, and with 

 little ceremony took his departure ; and although 

 he announced his intention of repeating his 

 visit at a more convenient season, he never 

 again set foot in the parish of Knowstone. 



"When the bishop had fairly disappeared," 

 Russell adds, " Froude put on his long gaiters 

 and went out hunting for the rest of the 

 day." 



