diriment impediment."

"I thought so," said Augustina excitedly, "though I wasn't sure. There
are so many dispensations nowadays."

"Ah, but not in such cases as that," said the priest, with an unconscious
sigh that rather startled his companion.

Then with a sudden movement he pounced upon something on the further side
of the table, nearly upsetting the tea-tray. Augustina exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon," he said humbly; "it was only a nasty fly." And he
dropped the flattened creature on the grass.

Both relapsed into a melancholy silence. But several times during the
course of it Mrs. Fountain looked towards her companion as though on the
point of saying something--then rebuked herself and refrained.

But when the priest had taken his leave, and Mrs. Fountain was left alone
in the garden with the flowers and the autumn wind, her thoughts were
painfully concerned with quite another part of the episcopal conversation
from that which she had reported to Father Bowles. What right had the
Bishop or anyone else to speak of "stories" about Laura? Of course, the
dear Bishop had been very kind and cautious. He had said emphatically
that he did not believe the stories--nor that other report that Mr.
Helbeck's sudden proposal of marriage to Miss Fountain had been brought
about by his chivalrous wish to protect the endangered name of a young
girl, his guest, to whom he had become unwisely attached.

But why should there be "stories," and what did it all mean?