shall see the boys this afternoon. They are
fine-hearted lads, and much may be done with them. There are six. Two of
them are pretty well advanced. They read Euripides and Horace. Is
Euripides a favourite of yours?"

"He is tender, plaintive, and passionate," I answered; "but perhaps I
may be pardoned if I venture to prefer the vigour and majesty of the
sterner tragedian."

"You mean you like AEschylus better. Do you write poetry, Mr Stukely? Not
Latin verses, but English poetry."

"I do not, sir."

"Well, I am glad of that. It struck me that you did. Will you really
take no refreshment? Are you not fatigued?"

"Not in the least, sir. This lovely prospect, for one who has seen so
little of nature as I have, is refreshment enough for the present."

"Ah," said Mr Fairman, sighing faintly, "you will get accustomed to it.
There is something in the prospect, but more in your own mind. Some of
our poor fellows would be easily served and satisfied, if we could feed
them on the prospect. But if you are not tired you shall see more of it
if you will. I have to go down to the village. We have an hour till
dinner-time. Will you accompany me?"

"With pleasure, sir."

"Very well." Mr Fairman then rang the bell, and the servant girl came
in.

"Where's Miss Ellen, Mary?" asked the incumbent.

"She has been in the village since breakfast, sir. Mrs Barnes sent word
that she was ill, and Miss took her the rice and sago that Dr Mayhew
ordered."

"Has Warden been this morning?"

"No, sir."

"Foolish fellow. I'll call on him. Mary, if Cuthbert the fisherman
comes, give him that bottle of port wine; but tell him not to touch a
drop of it himself. It is for his sick child, and it is committing
robbery to take it. Let him have the blanket also that was looked out
for him."

"It's gone, sir. Miss sent it yesterday."

"Very well. There is nothing more. Now, Mr Stukely, we will go."

I have said already that the first opinion which I formed of the
disposition of Mr Fairman was not a flattering one. Before he spoke a
word, I felt disappointed and depressed. My impression after our short
conversation was worse than the first. The natural effect of the scene
in which I suddenly found myself, had been to prepare my ever too
forward spirit for a man of enthusiasm and poetic temperament. Mr
Fairman was many degrees removed from warmth. He spoke to me in a sharp
tone of voice, and sometimes, I suspected, with the intention of mocki