“I never heard a more profound remark, Koppen, no, nor a more subtle one; not even from you.  Nor yet from you, Heard.  And I can tell you something to the point.  I was talking this afternoon with a gentleman about the stage.  I said it made me said to see flesh-and-blood people pretending to be kings and queens.  Because it cannot be done.  No sensible person can bring himself to believe it.  But when you watch some of these local marionette theatres the illusion is complete.  Why is a poppy show more convincing than the comedie Francaise?  Because it is still further removed from reality.  There is so much make-belief that you cease to struggle.  You succumb without an effort.  You are quite disposed, you are positively anxious, to make concessions to the improbable.  Once they are made—­why, as you say, it is plain sailing.”

“All life is a concession to the improbable,” observed the bishop rather vaguely.

Mr. Richards remarked: 

“These questions must be approached with an open mind.  An open mind, gentlemen, is not necessarily an empty one.”

“A fine distinction!”

“Very well.  Mr. Keith proposes to abolish theatres.  I second the motion.  Nothing is easier.  Let me draw up a memorial to the House of Lords.  We will appeal to them on moral grounds.  I know the proper language.  Whereas by the grace of god your PETITIONERS humbly protest that there is too much kissing on the stage—­ah!  Talking of kissing, here comes our friend Don Francesco.  He shall put his name to the memorial and seal it with an oath.  No Englishman can resist a Monsignor.  And nothing like a solemn oath.  People always think you mean it.”

That amiable personage strode down the stairs in dignified fashion, greeting the guests with a sonorous: 

“Pax VOBISCUM!”

He could not be induced to stay long, however.  He had been perturbed all day on account of the Duchess who now threatened to join the Moravian Brotherhood; she was so annoyed about a little thing which had happened.  He did not quite believe it, of course; but, like a well-trained priest, took nothing for granted and was prepared for every emergency where ladies are concerned.

“Just one glass!” said Keith.

“Let me drink to your health ere we part,” added the bishop.  “I am sorry to leave you.  Our friendship will endure.  We meet in September, during the vintage season.  Keith has been talking to me.  I am as wax in his hands.  Your smile, Don Francesco, will follow me across the ocean.  Just one glass!”

“Ah, well!” said the priest.  “The next best thing to leading others astray is to be led astray oneself.”

He gulped down a couple of tumblers and dutifully took his leave, turning round, as he reached the staircase, to make a playful gesture of benediction towards the assembled company.