ory. I don't like to say so,
but it's true."

"Serves him right, the old tom-cat. I only wish they snapped their
fingers in his face."

"No, no, Humpty----"

"But I do. However, I daresay they prefer a quiet life; and as for
Leonore, I do wonder how Leonore will get on?"--and he puffed a long
breath of smoke and looked down at his wife's upturned face. "If you
should ever have a chance of doing Leonore Stubbs a good turn, do it.
She'll need it," he prophesied.

The return of Leonore was the event of the neighbourhood. Others besides
Dr. Craig had seen General Boldero's carriage, with its glittering
harness and champing horses, in waiting at the station; and it was
noticed that not merely its presence but that of the general himself on
the occasion, was designed to give the young widow importance in the
public eye. The Reverend Eustace Custance, the rector, and very much the
rector, had both seen and understood.

Eustace was one of the excellent of the earth. His spare frame, long
neck, and hanging head were to be seen year in year out entering
familiarly every door in his parish,--entering with a friend's step, and
departing with a note-book, well-worn and blessed by not a few, in his
hand.

There were some among his richer parishioners who voted their clergyman
a bore, but he was never so thought of by the poor. Their wants, their
cares, their welfare was the burden of his thoughts--and we know that
such a burden is not always a welcome guest in the seats of the mighty.
General Boldero, for instance, would raise a curt hand to his hat, and
mutter something about being in haste, if he chanced upon the rector on
the road,--if possible, he would scuffle out of the way. "I never see
that man but he has a subscription list in his hand," he would fretfully
exclaim,--and though it did not suit his dignity to ignore the list, he
would have disliked the person whose fingers thus found their way into
his pocket, if it had been possible. Since it was not possible, he
yielded a cold esteem, and secretly wondered why so worthy a recipient
for promotion did not obtain it.

On the present occasion, however, Mr. Custance did not cross his
neighbour's path; voluntarily he never did so, and he had, as it
happened, no very pressing case demanding assistance on hand at the
moment.

Wherefore, he only blinked his mild blue eyes as the handsome turn-out,
designed to edify all beholders, thundered past him on the station road,
an