one to hold his horse for him;--and the groom
was the source of great offence. He come upon Mr. Crawley standing at
the school door, and stopping at once, jumped off his nag. There was
something in the way in which he sprang out of the saddle and threw
the reins to the man, which was not clerical in Mr. Crawley's eyes.
No man could be so quick in the matter of a horse who spent as many
hours with the poor and with the children as should be spent by a
parish clergyman. It might be probable that Mr. Robarts had never
stolen twenty pounds,--might never be accused of so disgraceful a
crime,--but, nevertheless, Mr. Crawley had his own ideas, and made his
own comparisons.

"Crawley" said Robarts, "I am so glad to find you at home."

"I am generally to be found in the parish," said the perpetual curate
of Hogglestock.

"I know you are," said Robarts, who knew the man well, and cared
nothing for his friend's peculiarities when he felt his own withers
to be unwrung. "But you might have been down at Hoggle End with the
brickmakers, and then I should have had to go after you."

"I should have grieved--" began Crawley; but Robarts interrupted him
at once.

"Let us go for a walk, and I'll leave the man with the horses. I've
something special to say to you, and I can say it better out here
than in the house. Grace is quite well, and sends her love. She is
growing to look so beautiful!"

"I hope she may grow in grace with God," said Mr. Crawley.

"She's as good a girl as I ever knew. By-the-by, you had Henry
Grantly over here the other day?"

"Major Grantly, whom I cannot name without expressing my esteem for
him, did do us the honour of calling upon us not very long since. If
it be with reference to him that you have taken this trouble--"

"No, no; not at all. I'll allow him and the ladies to fight out that
battle. I've not the least doubt in the world how that will go. When
I'm told that she made a complete conquest of the archdeacon, there
cannot be a doubt about that."

"A conquest of the archdeacon!"

But Mr. Robarts did not wish to have to explain anything further about
the archdeacon. "Were you not terribly shocked, Crawley," he asked,
"when you heard of the death of Mrs. Proudie?"

"It was sudden and very awful," said Mr. Crawley. "Such deaths are
always shocking. Not more so, perhaps, as regards the wife of a
bishop, than with any other woman."

"Only we happened to know her."

"No doubt the finite and meag