their cursed, envenomed tongues!' I muttered, in the bitterness of
my soul.

And just at that moment the vicar entered the room: we had been too much
absorbed in our conversation to observe his knock. After his customary
cheerful and fatherly greeting of Rose, who was rather a favourite with
the old gentleman, he turned somewhat sternly to me:--

'Well, sir!' said he, 'you're quite a stranger. It is--let--me--see,' he
continued, slowly, as he deposited his ponderous bulk in the arm-chair
that Rose officiously brought towards him; 'it is just--six-weeks--by my
reckoning, since you darkened--my--door!' He spoke it with emphasis, and
struck his stick on the floor.

'Is it, sir?' said I.

'Ay! It is so!' He added an affirmatory nod, and continued to gaze upon
me with a kind of irate solemnity, holding his substantial stick between
his knees, with his hands clasped upon its head.

'I have been busy,' I said, for an apology was evidently demanded.

'Busy!' repeated he, derisively.

'Yes, you know I've been getting in my hay; and now the harvest is
beginning.'

'Humph!'

Just then my mother came in, and created a diversion in my favour by her
loquacious and animated welcome of the reverend guest. She regretted
deeply that he had not come a little earlier, in time for tea, but
offered to have some immediately prepared, if he would do her the favour
to partake of it.

'Not any for me, I thank you,' replied he; 'I shall be at home in a few
minutes.'

'Oh, but do stay and take a little! it will be ready in five minutes.'

But he rejected the offer with a majestic wave of the hand.

'I'll tell you what I'll take, Mrs. Markham,' said he: 'I'll take a glass
of your excellent ale.'

'With pleasure!' cried my mother, proceeding with alacrity to pull the
bell and order the favoured beverage.

'I thought,' continued he, 'I'd just look in upon you as I passed, and
taste your home-brewed ale. I've been to call on Mrs. Graham.'

'Have you, indeed?'

He nodded gravely, and added with awful emphasis--'I thought it incumbent
upon me to do so.'

'Really!' ejaculated my mother.

'Why so, Mr. Millward?' asked I.

He looked at me with some severity, and turning again to my mother,
repeated,--'I thought it incumbent upon me!' and struck his stick on the
floor again. My mother sat opposite, an awe-struck but admiring auditor.

'"Mrs. Graham," said I,' he continued, shaking his head as he spoke,
'"these are terrib