I + 

The New Bishop + 

Jemima Robinson was a sprightly girl, and if anyone had dominion over Mary Tomkins it was she. “Marry come up, Molly!” she said, “how many men do you think are going to die for you? If I were Johnny Thomas I would take you by the neck and lug you into church!” + 

“It would avail nothing, Jemima,” said Mary Tomkins. + 

“I’d stop that ‘Never, never,’ with a mouthful of kisses.” + 

“That has availed nothing, Jemima,” she said. + 

“What ar’t feared on, girl?” she said. “Is not marriage honorable?” + 

“And so is single-blessedness.” + 

“Single fiddlestick! I would it were my chance.” + 

“And have you no lovers, Jemima?” + 

“Not a ghost of a swain! not a thread-paper of a man. Would that I had! Thank God, I could love any man that would ask me. But to lead apes in hell with two such strings to your bow! ’Tis a sheer wasting of the gifts of Providence.” + 

“I do love to lead apes,” said Mary. + 

“Then lead one here and take the parson. You have not heard it, perhaps, but I know. The Queen will make him Bishop of Rochester next week. She saw his profile the other day in a shopwindow, and swore that he was a sweet divine.” + 

“And will Abraham really be a bishop?” + 

“ ’Tis true.” + 

“Cherubic with lawn sleeves, and seraphic with an apron!” Mary turned her eyes up to heaven as she spoke. + 

“Indeed he will. And you⁠—you would look the bishop’s wife to a T.” + 

Mary paused that day; she paused all that night; she paused the next morning, and then she made her reply⁠— + 

“Never, never, never, never!” + 