"I will ask you because I said I would--and all the more because you are not cross about Mr Walcot--"

"Hold your tongue, Sydney!" said the mother.

"Do not be ridiculous, Sydney," advised the sister.

"Mr Hope will say whether it is ridiculous, Sophy. Now, Mr Hope, would not you, and cousin Hester, and Margaret, go down the water with us to the abbey, just the same if Mr Walcot was with us?"

"With any guest of your father's and mother's, Sydney. We have no quarrel with Mr Walcot. The truth is, we feel, after all we have heard, that we know very little about him. We have not the slightest objection to meet Mr Walcot."

"Neither wish nor objection," said Hester, calmly. "We are perfectly indifferent about him."

Sydney vehemently beckoned his father, who left the apricot he and Margaret were examining by the surgery wall, and came to see what he was wanted for.

"You see," said he to Hope, when the matter was explained, "I have naturally been rather anxious to bring this about this meeting between you and the young man. In a small place like this, it is painful to have everybody quarrelling, and not to be able to get one's friends about one, for fear they should brawl in one's very drawing-room. Mr Rowland is of my mind there; and I know it would gratify him if I were to take some notice of this young man. I really could hardly refuse, knowing how handsomely Mr Rowland always speaks of you and yours, and believing Mr Walcot to be a very respectable, harmless young man. If I thought it would injure your interests in the least, I would see him at Cape Horn before I would invite him, of course: you must be aware of that. And I should not think of asking you to meet Mrs Rowland; that would be going too far. But Mrs Grey wishes that your wife and Margaret should visit these ruins that we were always prevented from getting to last year: and Mr Walcot is anxious to see them too; and he has been civil to Sydney; and, in short, I believe that Sydney half promised that he should go with us."

"Say no more," replied Hope. "You will have no difficulty with us. I really know nothing against Mr Walcot. He had a perfect right to settle where he pleased. Whether the manner of doing it was handsome or otherwise, is of far more consequence to himself than to me, or to any one else."

"I wish we all viewed the matter as you do. If the ladies had your temper, we should have a heaven upon earth. But they take things up so warmly, you see, when their feelings are interested for anybody; Mrs Rowland for one, and my wife for another. I hardly know what she will say to the idea of our having Walcot with us. Let us go and see."

"I have a word to say to you first. Do you know of any one who wants a horse? I am going to dispose of mine."

"Mr Walcot wants a horse," said Sydney, delighted at the idea of solving a difficulty.

Hope smiled, and told Mr Grey that he had rather sell his horse at a distance. Mr Walcot had already hired the boy Charles, whom Hope had just dismissed; and if he obtained the horse too, the old servant who knew his way to every patient's door, all the country round--it really would look too like the unpopular man patronising his opponent.

Besides, it would be needlessly publishing in Deerbrook that the horse was given up.

"What is the fault of your horse?" asked Mr Grey, rousing himself from an absent fit.

"Merely that he eats, and therefore is expensive. I cannot afford now to keep a horse," he declared, in answer to Mr Grey's stare of amazement. "I have so few patients now out of walking reach, that I have no right to keep a horse. I can always hire, you know, from Reeves."

"Upon my soul, I am sorry to hear this--extremely sorry to hear it.

Matters must have gone further than I had any idea of. My dear fellow, we must see how we can serve you. You must let me accommodate you-- indeed you must--rather than give up your horse."

"Do not speak of it. You are very kind; but we need no help, I do a.s.sure you. My mind is quite made up about the horse. It would only be an inc.u.mbrance now. And, to satisfy you, I will mention that I have declined repeated offers of accommodation--offers very strongly urged.

All I need ask of you is, to help me to dispose of my horse, somewhere out of Deerbrook."

"I will manage that for you, the next time I go to market; and--" In the emotion of the moment, Mr Grey was on the point of offering the use of his own horse when it should be at home: but he stopped short on the verge of his rash generosity. He was very particular about no one riding his horse but himself and the man who groomed it: he remembered his friend Hope's rapid riding and 'enthusiasm' and suspected that he should sooner or later repent the offer: so he changed it into, "I will get your horse disposed of to the best advantage, you may depend upon it. But I am very sorry--very sorry, indeed."

It is probable that nothing could have reconciled the ladies of Mr Grey's family to the idea of admitting Mr Walcot into their party, but the fact that they had of late cut rather a poor figure in contrast to Mrs Rowland. That lady had the advantage of novelty in the person of Mr Walcot, and her 'faction' was by far the larger of the two. The Greys found fault with all its elements; but there was no denying its superiority of numbers. It was a great hardship to have Mr Walcot forced upon them; but they reflected that his presence might bring a reinforcement--that some neighbours would perhaps come to meet him, who would be otherwise engaged to the Rowlands, for the very day on which they were wanted; for Mrs Rowland had the art of pre-engaging just the people the Greys intended to have. Sophia observed that Mr Walcot's presence would be less of a restraint in a boat, and at tea among the ruins, than in the drawing-room: there was always something to be said about the banks and the woods; and there was singing; and in a boat people were not obliged to talk unless they liked. She should not wonder if he would rather relish a little neglect; he had been made much of lately at such a ridiculous rate.

"If we do our part, my love," said Mrs Grey to Hester, in a mysterious low voice, "I think you should exert yourselves a little. Nothing can be done without a little exertion in this world, you know. Sophia and I were agreeing that it is a long time since you had any of your friends about you."

"Very few since your wedding company," observed Sophia.

"We remember you had all your acquaintance in the winter, my dear. It was very proper, I am sure, all you did then: but it is now the middle of July, you know; and our neighbours if Deerbrook always expect to be invited twice a year."

"I should be happy to see them, I a.s.sure you," said Hester, "but it happens to be not convenient."

"Not convenient, my dear!"

"Just so. We shall always be glad to see you and yours; but we have no hospitality to spare for the common world just now. We have no servants, you know, but Morris; and we are spending as little as we can."

"Tea company costs so very little!" said Sophia. "At this time of the year, when you need not light candles till people are going away, and when fruit is cheap and plentiful--"

"And we will take care of the cake," interposed Mrs Grey. "Sophia will make you some of her vicarage-cake, and a batch of almond biscuits; and Alice shall come and wait. We can manage it very easily."

"You are extremely kind: but if our acquaintance are to eat your cake, it had better be at your house. It does not suit our present circ.u.mstances to entertain company."

"But it costs so very little!" persisted Sophia. "Mr Russell Taylor's father used to give a general invitation to all his friends to come to tea in the summer, because, as he said, they then cost him only twopence-halfpenny a-head."

"I am afraid we are not such good managers as Mr Russell Taylor's father," replied Hester, laughing. "And if we were, it is not convenient to spend even twopence-halfpenny a-head upon our common acquaintance at present. If we grow richer, we will get our friends about us, without counting the cost so closely as that."

"That time will soon come, Sophia, my dear," said her mother, winking at Hester. "In every profession, you know, there are little ups and downs, and particularly in the medical. I dare say, if the truth were told, there is scarcely any professional man, without private fortune, who has not, at some time of his life, broken into his last guinea without knowing where he is to get another. But professional people generally keep their difficulties to themselves, I fancy, Hester: they are not often so frank as you. Mind that, Sophia. You will be discreet, Sophia."

"We have no intention of proclaiming in the streets that we are poor,"

said Hester. "But we owe it to you, dear Mrs Grey, to give our reasons for not doing all that we and you might wish. We are not dissatisfied: we want no help or pity: but we must live as we think right--that is all."

"Indeed, my dear, I must say you do not look as if anything was amiss.

You look charmingly, indeed."

"Charmingly, indeed," echoed Sophia. "And Mrs Levitt was saying, that Margaret seems to have grown quite handsome, this summer. I fancy Mrs Rowland gets very few to agree with her as to Margaret being so very plain."

"No, indeed. Margaret's countenance is so intelligent and pleasant that I always said, from the beginning, that n.o.body but Mrs Rowland could call her plain. I suppose we shall soon be losing her, Hester."

"Oh, no; not soon. She has no thought of leaving us at present. She would not go in the spring, and sit beside Philip while he was learning his lessons; and now, they will wait, I believe, till the lessons are finished."

"She would not! Well, that shows what love will do. That shows what her power over Mr Enderby is. We used to think--indeed, everybody used to say it of Mr Enderby, that he always managed to do as he liked--he carried all his points. Yet even he is obliged to yield."

"Margaret has a way of carrying her points too," said Hester: "the best way in the world--by being always right."

"Mind that, Sophia. But, my dear Hester, I am really anxious about you.

I had no idea, I am sure--. I hope you get your natural rest."

"Perfectly, I a.s.sure you. Mrs Howell might envy me, if she still 'cannot sleep for matching of worsteds.' The simple truth is, Mrs Grey, we never were so happy in our lives. This may seem rather perverse; but so it is."

Mrs Grey sighed that Mrs Rowland could not be aware of this. Hester thought it was no business of Mrs Rowland's; but Mrs Grey could not but feel that it would be a great satisfaction that she should know that those whom she hated, slept. She heard Margaret and Sydney saying something in the middle of the gra.s.s-plot about the Milky Way: looking up, she was surprised to perceive how plain it was, and how many stars were twinkling in the sky. She was sure Hester must be dreadfully tired with sauntering about so long. They had been very inconsiderate, and must go away directly. Sydney must call his father.

"They are delightful young people, really," observed Mrs Grey to her husband, during their walk home. "One never knows how to get away.

Lady Hunter little supposes what she loses in not cultivating them. Go on before us, Sophia. Make haste home with your sister, Sydney. But, my dear, they speak in a very poor way of their affairs."

"Oh, Hester spoke to you, did she? Hope told me he must part with his horse. So Hester spoke to you?"

"Yes: not at all in a melancholy way, however. She keeps up her spirits wonderfully, poor girl! We really must push them, Mr Grey. I see nothing but ruin before them, if we do not push them."

"Ah! there is the difficulty: that is where that little enthusiasm of Hope's comes in. I have a great respect for him; but I own I should like to see him a little more practical."

"I really am pleased to hear you say so. It is just what I think; and I always fancied you did not agree with me. It really puts me almost out of patience to hear him speak of Mr Walcot--encouraging Sydney in his notions! It is unnatural: it looks a little like affectation--all that sort of feeling about Mr Walcot."