point had not yet been touched upon.

"He is the greatest fool going, is Jenkins," was the complimentary
retort of Jenkins's wife. "After he had helped to ring out the bell, he
must needs go poking and groping into the organ-loft, hunting for
matches or some such insane rubbish. He might have known, had he
possessed any sense, that candles and matches are not likely to be
there in summer-time! Why, if the organist wanted ever so much to stop
in after dark, when the college is locked up for the night, he wouldn't
be allowed to do it! It's only in winter, when he has to light a candle
to get through the afternoon service, that they keep matches and dips
up there."

"But about his head?" repeated Mr. Galloway, who was aware of the
natural propensity of Mrs. Jenkins to wander from the point under
discussion.

"Yes, about his head!" she wrathfully answered. "In attempting to
descend the stairs again, he missed his footing, and pitched right down
to the bottom of the flight. That's how his head came in for it. He
wants a nurse with him always, does Jenkins, for he is no better than a
child in leading-strings."

"Is he much hurt?"

"And there he'd have lain till morning, but for the bishop," resumed
Mrs. Jenkins, passing over the inquiry. "After his lordship got out,
he, finding Jenkins did not come, told Thorpe to go and look for him in
the organ-loft. Thorpe said he should have done nothing of the sort,
but for the bishop's order; he was just going to lock the great doors