The Bishop and the Prime Minister met, one afternoon a few days later, at the corner of Horse Guards Avenue.

The latter was looking brown and well, distinctly the better for his brief holiday.

The Bishop, on the contrary, was pale and appeared harassed.

They shook hands and exchanged for a moment the usual inanities.
"Tell me, Mr.Stenson," the Bishop asked earnestly, "what is the meaning of all this Press talk, about peace next month?
I have heard a hint that it was inspired." "You are wrong," was the firm reply.

"I have sent my private secretary around to a few of the newspapers this morning.