ight
forward.

I could read him like a book, this town-lover so I thought. He
had said too much to me, he had avowed to me his want of
affection for his work in so many words, and now he was on the
watch against himself, and burning to render reparation to a very
quick conscience.

He had a big mail, but he was not communicative about it. Indeed
we had not much time for our letters just then. We had Evensong
soon after sunset, then there was a class for catechumens that I
attended. I could not understand much, but it was good to watch
how they listened, all but the vigorous mail-boy, who nodded at
whiles unless I am mistaken. Afterwards we had a meal. It was by
mutual agreement that we read our letters over our bread and tea
and cheese. I read one of my letters with some indignation. It
was a letter from my schoolmaster, who was not very encouraging
on the subject of my locum tenens' industry.

'I thought I had got a first-rate man in Cochrane,' I said aloud.

'Cochrane of Peckham Downs?' asked Reeve, looking up and eyeing
me. 'What about him? Yes, I should say he was in his way quite
first-rate.'

'I'm glad to hear it, but I wish he would find country work more
congenial. My correspondent says he's quite got the hump about
our village.'

Leonard smiled. 'Some villages do tend to give people like
Cochrane and me the hump,' he said. 'But of course yours is
different.' 'Of course it is. Come and see it some day.' His
mouth twitched. 'If I get home-leave in two years' time,' he
said. 'I don't want to spend it in the country, not any of it,
thank you all the same. I like the town much too well.'

'The smell of the shop you named attracts you just like thyme
does me.'

'Yes,' he said, with a rather wry smile and a very real sigh.

Then we went on reading till bed-time. In the morning Lorenzo,
his house-boy, knocked me up just as the sun was rising. 'The
father is very sick,' he said. So he was very bad indeed with
fever, at least so it seemed to me. But I am not used to nursing
that malady. I think his temperature was 103 that day, which may
seem a modest figure to a pioneer, but struck a chance visitor as
none too reassuring. However, I kept my anxieties to myself, and
looked after him quietly. He said there was no need to worry
about a doctor. That night he seemed to be delirious, and talking
at large. I made up my mind I would send for the doctor in the
morning if his symptoms should last. But they did not.