e women's time, and they wished them
good-bye, Dora fearing, however, that there would be a quarrel between
Tirzah and Molly.

"Oh dear! oh dear!" she sighed, "couldn't you make peace between those
two," she said; "they will fight it out."

"No, I think the fear of the farmer and the need of finishing their work
will avert the storm for the present at least," said Mary, "and I
thought the more I said, the worse accusations I should hear."

"But what people they are! I do begin to believe that attorney man,
that they are a bad lot."

"Don't be disheartened, Dora, no one has tried yet, apparently, to do
anything for them. We must try to see them in their own homes."

"Beginning with Mrs Seddon. She was quiet and civil, and did not beg."

"Neither did that thin little woman. I should like to give her a
flannel petticoat. There is a look of want about her."

"But I'm most taken with the wild woman, with the teeth and the eyes,
and the merry smile. I am sure there is fun in her."

"Little enough fun, poor things!" sighed Mrs Carbonel.

She was more used to poor people. She had more resolution, though less
enthusiasm than her sister.

CHAPTER FOUR.

NOBODY'S BUSINESS.

"For the rector don't live on his living like other Christian sort of
folks."--_T. Hood_.

The sisters found on coming home that a very handsome chestnut horse was
being walked up and down before the front door, and their man-servant,
William, informed them that it belonged to the clergyman.

As they advanced to the verandah, Captain Carbonel and his visitor came
out to meet them, and Mr Ashley Selby was introduced. He looked more
like a sportsman than a clergyman, except for his black coat; he had a
happy, healthy, sunburnt face, top boots, and a riding-whip in his hand,
and informed Mrs Carbonel that his father and mother would have the
honour of calling on her in a day or two. They had an impression that
he had come to reconnoitre and decide whether they were farmers or
gentry.

"We have been trying to make acquaintance with some of your flock," said
Mary.

"The last thing I would advise you to do," he answered; "there are not a
worse lot anywhere. Desperate poachers! Not a head of game safe from
them."

"Perhaps they may be improved."

He shrugged his shoulders. "See what my father has to say of them."

"Is there much distress?"

"There ought not to be, for old Dr Fogram and my father send down a
handsome sum