ar is not a lively person, certainly," he rejoined, "but all
the same I have a great respect for him. He is a trifle too mediaeval
for these days, and his environment does not suit him a bit."
"He ought to be a fellow of his college--spending his days in
disinterring dusty old folios in the Bodleian," pursued Cedric,
"instead of being vicar of Rotherwood."
"I think very highly of Mr. Charrington," and Dinah spoke rather
gravely. "He is not only a very learned man, but he is such a thorough
gentleman. Poor man, it is a blessing that he has you near him, Mr.
Carlyon, for his life is very lonely."
"Why does he not get married then?" growled Cedric. "I bet you he is
not much over fifty." Then again Elizabeth and Mr. Carlyon exchanged
glances.
"I don't think the vicar ever intends to enter the holy estate of
matrimony," returned Mr. Carlyon. "He is an old bachelor by choice, and
in my humble opinion is likely to remain so; and then his worthy
housekeeper, Mrs. Finch, makes him so thoroughly comfortable."
"I heard something once from one of our fellows," observed Cedric, with
a mischievous glance at Dinah--he knew well her objection to gossip.
"He was not always a woman-hater. Palgrave of Lincoln told me that he
had been engaged to a lady, and that just before the wedding-day the
engagement was broken off; no one seemed to know the rights of it, but
ever since he has been a little shy of petticoats."
"Cedric, I am sure it is time for us to dress for dinner, the gong must
have sounded long ago. Will you show Mr. Herrick his room?" Dinah spoke
with gentle decision, and as she evidently expected Malcolm to join
her, he rose from his seat. As he did so he heard Elizabeth say in a
low voice to Mr. Carlyon, "I wonder if Cedric's story is a true one."
"Very possibly--why not?" was the answer; "he looks like a man with a
past," and then they dropped behind and he heard no more.
It is never well to form an opinion too soon; before the next half-hour
had passed Malcolm had been compelled to readjust his ideas on the
subject of Miss Elizabeth Templeton. When he saw her again he would
hardly have recognised her. Her massive but well-proportioned figure
looked to its best advantage in the black evening dress; the
transparent material only set off the round white throat and
finely-moulded arms to perfection. The coils of brown hair were
effectively arranged, and the shape of the head was beautiful. Before
the evening was ove
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