's son; and it is at her entreaty (for she
cannot prevail on herself to face you) that I now beg to inquire whether
Mr. Armadale is still in Somersetshire, and whether he would consent
to take back in small installments the sum of money which my friend
acknowledges that she received by practicing on Mrs. Armadale's fears.'
Those were my very words. A neater story (accounting so nicely for
everything) was never told; it was a story to melt a stone. But this
Somersetshire parson is harder than stone itself. I blush for _him_,
my dear, when I assure you that he was evidently insensible enough to
disbelieve every word I said about your reformed character, your husband
in the Brazils, and your penitent anxiety to pay the money back. It is
really a disgrace that such a man should be in the Church; such
cunning as his is in the last degree unbecoming in a member of a sacred
profession.

"'Does your friend propose to join her husband by the next steamer?' was
all he condescended to say, when I had done.

"I acknowledge I was angry. I snapped at him. I said, 'Yes, she does.'

"'How am I to communicate with her?' he asked.

"I snapped at him again. 'By letter--through me.'

"'At what address, ma'am?'

"There, I had him once more. 'You have found my address out for
yourself, sir,' I said. 'The directory will tell you my name, if you
wish to find that out for yourself also; otherwise, you are welcome to
my card.'

"'Many thanks, ma'am. If your friend wishes to communicate with Mr.
Armadale, I will give you _my_ card in return.'

"'Thank you, sir.'

"'Thank you, ma'am.'

"'Good-afternoon, sir.'

"'Good-afternoon, ma'am.'

"So we parted. I went my way to an appointment at my place of business,
and he went his in a hurry; which is of itself suspicious. What I can't
get over is his heartlessness. Heaven help the people who send for _him_
to comfort them on their death-beds!

"The next consideration is, What are we to do? If we don't find out the
right way to keep this old wretch in the dark, he may be the ruin of us
at Thorpe Ambrose just as we are within easy reach of our end in view.
Wait up till I come to you, with my mind free, I hope, from the other
difficulty which is worrying me here. Was there ever such ill luck as
ours? Only think of that man deserting his congregation, and coming
to London just at the very time when we have answered Major Milroy's
advertisement, and may expect the inquiries to be made next we