'I hear,' Mrs. Eldon had written, 'from Wanley something which really
surprises me. They say that Adela Waltham is going to marry Mr. Mutimer.
The match is surely a very strange one. I am only fearful that it is the
making of interested people, and that the poor girl herself has not had
much voice in deciding her own fate. Oh, this money! Adela was worthy of
better things.'

Mrs. Eldon saw her son with surprise, the more so that she divined the
cause of his coming. When they had talked for a while, Hubert frankly
admitted what it was that had brought him.

'I must know,' he said, 'whether the news from Wanley is true'

'But can it concern you, Hubert?' his mother asked gently.

He made no direct reply, but expressed his intention of going over to
Wanley.

'Whom shall you visit, dear?'

'Mr. Wyvern.'

'The vicar? But you don't know him personally.'

'Yes, I know him pretty well. We write to each other occasionally.'

Mrs. Eldon always practised most reserve when her surprise was
greatest--an excellent rule, by-the-by, for general observation. She
looked at her son with a half-smile of wonder, but only said 'Indeed?'

'I had made his acquaintance before his coming to Wanley,' Hubert
explained.

His mother just bent her head, acquiescent. And with that their
conversation on the subject ended. But Hubert received a tender kiss on
his cheek when he set forth in the afternoon.

To one entering the valley after nightfall the situation of the
much-discussed New Wanley could no longer be a source of doubt. Two
blast-furnaces sent up their flare and lit luridly the devastated scene.
Having glanced in that direction Hubert did his best to keep his eyes
averted during the remainder of the walk. He was surprised to see a
short passenger train rush by on the private line connecting the works
with Agworth station; it was taking away certain visitors who had
lingered in New Wanley after the lecture. Knowing nothing of the
circumstances, he supposed that general traffic had been commenced. He
avoided the village street, and reached the Vicarage by a path through
fields.

He found the vicar at dinner, though it was only half-past six. The
welcome he received was, in Mr. Wyvern's manner, almost silent; but
when he had taken a place at the table he saw satisfaction on his host's
face. The meal was very plain, but the vicar ate with extraordinary
appetite; he was one of those men in whom the demands of the stomach
seem to