his debts. The dean had also given him his
present living; and consequently his old friend was not now so dear
to him as when in old days he would come down to that farm-house,
almost as penniless as the curate himself. Then they would walk
together for hours along the rock-bound shore, listening to the
waves, discussing deep polemical mysteries, sometimes with hot fury,
then again with tender, loving charity, but always with a mutual
acknowledgement of each other's truth. Now they lived comparatively
near together, but no opportunities arose for such discussions. At
any rate once a quarter Mr. Crawley was pressed by his old friend to
visit him at the deanery, and Dr. Arabin had promised that no one
else should be in the house if Mr. Crawley objected to society. But
this was not what he wanted. The finery and grandeur of the deanery,
and the comfort of that warm, snug library, would silence him at
once. Why did not Dr. Arabin come out there to Hogglestock, and tramp
with him through the dirty lanes as they used to tramp? Then he could
have enjoyed himself; then he could have talked; then old days would
have come back to them. But now!--"Arabin always rides on a sleek,
fine horse, nowadays," he once said to his wife with a sneer. His
poverty had been so terrible to himself that it was not in his heart
to love a rich friend.

CHAPTER XXII

Hogglestock Parsonage

At the end of the last chapter, we left Lucy Robarts waiting for an
introduction to Mrs. Crawley, who was sitting with one baby in her
lap while she was rocking another who lay in a cradle at her feet.
Mr. Crawley, in the meanwhile, had risen from his seat with his
finger between the leaves of an old grammar out of which he had been
teaching his two elder children. The whole Crawley family was thus
before them when Mrs. Robarts and Lucy entered the sitting-room.
"This is my sister-in-law, Lucy," said Mrs. Robarts. "Pray don't move
now, Mrs. Crawley; or if you do, let me take baby." And she put out
her arms and took the infant into them, making him quite at home
there; for she had work of this kind of her own, at home, which she
by no means neglected, though the attendance of nurses was more
plentiful with her than at Hogglestock. Mrs. Crawley did get up, and
told Lucy that she was glad to see her, and Mr. Crawley came forward,
grammar in hand, looking humble and meek. Could we have looked into
the innermost spirit of him and his life's partner, we sho