The conversation was general, yet interesting enough to Swithin. At
length Louis stepped upon the grass and picked up something that had lain
there, which turned out to be a bowl: throwing it forward he took a
second, and bowled it towards the first, or jack. The Bishop, who seemed
to be in a sprightly mood, followed suit, and bowled one in a curve
towards the jack, turning and speaking to Lady Constantine as he
concluded the feat. As she had not left the gravelled terrace he raised
his voice, so that the words reached Swithin distinctly.
'Do you follow us?' he asked gaily.
'I am not skilful,' she said. 'I always bowl narrow.' The Bishop meditatively paused.
'This moment reminds one of the scene in _Richard the Second_,' he said.
'I mean the Duke of York's garden, where the queen and her two ladies
play, and the queen says-"What sport shall we devise here in this garden,
To drive away the heavy thought of care?"
To which her lady answers, "Madam, we'll play at bowls."' 'That's an unfortunate quotation for you,' said Lady Constantine; 'for if I don't forget, the queen declines, saying, "Twill make me think the
world is full of rubs, and that my fortune runs against the bias."' 'Then I cite _mal a propos_. But it is an interesting old game, and might have been played at that very date on this very green.' The Bishop lazily bowled another, and while he was doing it Viviette's
glance rose by accident to the church tower window, where she recognized
Swithin's face. Her surprise was only momentary; and waiting till both
her companions' backs were turned she smiled and blew him a kiss. In
another minute she had another opportunity, and blew him another;
afterwards blowing him one a third time.
Her blowings were put a stop to by the Bishop and Louis throwing down the
bowls and rejoining her in the path, the house clock at the moment
striking half-past eleven.
'This is a fine way of keeping an engagement,' said Swithin to himself.
'I have waited an hour while you indulge in those trifles!' He fumed, turned, and behold somebody was at his elbow: Tabitha Lark.
Swithin started, and said, 'How did you come here, Tabitha?' 'In the course of my calling, Mr. St. Cleeve,' said the smiling girl.
'I come to practise on the organ. When I entered I saw you up here through
the tower arch, and I crept up to see what you were looking at. The
Bishop is a striking man, is he not?' 'Yes, rather,' said Swithin.