desk the sneering potentate could note the dial-reading of the
instrument without turning. He watched the reflected needle
flicker and come to rest.

"So, Mr. Quimbleton," he said, in a harsh and untuned voice, "You
come comparatively sober. Strange that you should choose to be
unintoxicated when you face the greatest ordeal of your life."

The savage irony of this angered Quimbleton.

"One touch of liquor makes the whole world kin," he said. "I
assure you I have no desire to claim kinship with your bitter and
intolerant soul."

"Ah?" said the Bishop, with mock politeness. "You relieve me
greatly. I had thought you desired to claim me as father-in-law."

"Oh, Parent!" cried Theodolinda; "How can you be so cruel? Sarcasm
is such a low form of humor."

"I am not trying to be humorous," said the Bishop grimly. "You,
who were once the apple of my eye, are now only an apple of
discord. You, whom I considered such a promising child, are now a
breach of promise. You have sucked my blood. You are a Vampire."

"The Vampire on whom the sun never sets," whispered Quimbleton to
the terrified girl, encouraging her as she shrank against him.

"This is no time for jest," said the Bishop angrily. "You said you
had a matter of vital import to lay before me. Make haste. And