went away when the spring came,
leaving their houses innocent and empty. The parish duty was better
attended to, and perhaps domestic duties also. At such period he was
a pattern parson and a pattern husband, atoning to his own conscience
for past shortcomings by present zeal. And then, though she had never
acknowledged it to herself, the absence of her dear friend Lady
Lufton was perhaps in itself not disagreeable. Mrs. Robarts did love
Lady Lufton heartily; but it must be acknowledged of her ladyship,
that with all her good qualities, she was inclined to be masterful.
She liked to rule, and she made people feel that she liked it. Mrs.
Robarts would never have confessed that she laboured under a sense
of thraldom; but perhaps she was mouse enough to enjoy the temporary
absence of her kind-hearted cat. When Lady Lufton was away Mrs.
Robarts herself had more play in the parish. And Mark also was not
unhappy, though he did not find it practicable immediately to turn
Dandy into money. Indeed, just at this moment, when he was a good
deal over at Barchester, going through those deep mysteries and rigid
ecclesiastical examinations which are necessary before a clergyman
can become one of a chapter, Dandy was rather a thorn in his side.
Those wretched bills were to come due early in May, and before the
end of April Sowerby wrote to him saying that he was doing his utmost
to provide for the evil day; but that if the price of Dandy could
be remitted to him at once, it would greatly facilitate his object.
Nothing could be more different than Mr. Sowerby's tone about money
at different times. When he wanted to raise the wind, everything was
so important; haste and superhuman efforts, and men running to and
fro with blank acceptances in their hands, could alone stave off the
crack of doom; but at other times, when retaliatory applications were
made to him, he could prove with the easiest voice and most jaunty
manner that everything was quite serene. Now, at this period, he was
in that mood of superhuman efforts, and he called loudly for the
hundred and thirty pounds for Dandy. After what had passed, Mark
could not bring himself to say that he would pay nothing till the
bills were safe; and therefore with the assistance of Mr. Forrest of
the Bank, he did remit the price of Dandy to his friend Sowerby in
London.

And Lucy Robarts--we must now say a word of her. We have seen how, on
that occasion, when the world was at her feet, she h