cey."

"It sounds like it," said Edmund; "but which way did you turn after
passing Sewell's farm?"

"I answer no such irrelevant and insidious questions; though were I to
answer all that you could put in the course of an hour, you would never
be able to prove that it was _not_ Thornton Lacey--for such it certainly
was."

"You inquired, then?"

"No, I never inquire. But I _told_ a man mending a hedge that it was
Thornton Lacey, and he agreed to it."

"You have a good memory. I had forgotten having ever told you half so
much of the place."

Thornton Lacey was the name of his impending living, as Miss Crawford
well knew; and her interest in a negotiation for William Price's knave
increased.

"Well," continued Edmund, "and how did you like what you saw?"

"Very much indeed. You are a lucky fellow. There will be work for five
summers at least before the place is liveable."

"No, no, not so bad as that. The farmyard must be moved, I grant you;
but I am not aware of anything else. The house is by no means bad, and
when the yard is removed, there may be a very tolerable approach to it."

"The farmyard must be cleared away entirely, and planted up to shut
out the blacksmith's shop. The house must be turned to front the east
instead of the north--the entrance and principal rooms, I mean, must be
on that side, where the view is really very pretty; I am sure it may be
done. And _there_ must be your approach, through what is at present the
garden. You must make a new garden at what is now the back of the house;
which will be giving it the best aspect in the world, sloping to the
south-east. The ground seems precisely formed for it. I rode fifty yards
up the lane, between the church and the house, in order to look about
me; and saw how it might all be. Nothing can be easier. The meadows
beyond what _will_ _be_ the garden, as well as what now _is_, sweeping
round from the lane I stood in to the north-east, that is, to the
principal road through the village, must be all laid together, of
course; very pretty meadows they are, finely sprinkled with timber. They
belong to the living, I suppose; if not, you must purchase them. Then
the stream--something must be done with the stream; but I could not
quite determine what. I had two or three ideas."

"And I have two or three ideas also," said Edmund, "and one of them is,
that very little of your plan for Thornton Lacey will ever be put in
practice. I must be satisfied with rathe