the place beside him, while Cedric
clambered up behind. Mr. Carlyon looked after them regretfully as
Elizabeth waved gaily to him. The next moment she was pointing out the
vicarage to Malcolm, a gray, picturesque-looking house, standing in a
pleasant garden.

"It is not really the vicarage," she explained, "although it goes by
the name. It used to belong to old Colonel Trelawney; but when he died
and Mrs. Trelawney left Rotherwood, Mr. Charrington took it. It is not
large, but quite the right size for an old bachelor. He has really a
grand library, and a very good dining-room, though the drawing-room is
rather a dull room. Ah, there is the vicar," and Elizabeth smiled and
bowed to a tall, gray-haired man who was just letting himself in at the
gate.

"Wait a moment, please, Mr. Herrick," she exclaimed hurriedly. "I quite
forgot I had a message from Dinah;" and then, as she sprang lightly to
the ground, Mr. Charrington turned back to meet her, and they stood
talking for a few minutes.

"Hurry up, Bet, or we shall be late for dinner," called out Cedric,
impatient at this delay. Then Elizabeth looked up and nodded.

"Just one moment more," she said breathlessly. "Dinah will not mind our
being late."

Malcolm did not mind it either. He sat contentedly flicking the flies
from Brown Becky's glossy sides and listening to the distant cawing of
rooks.

What a peaceful, drowsy sort of place Rotherwood was! The wide village
street seemed empty, with the exception of a black collie lying asleep
in the middle of the road, and a patient donkey belonging to a
travelling tinker. The clean, sleek country sparrows were enjoying a
dust bath, and a long-legged chicken--evidently a straggler from the
brood--was pecking fitfully at a cabbage stalk, unmindful of the
alarmed clucking of the maternal hen.

When Elizabeth rejoined them the vicar was with her, and she introduced
him to Malcolm.

Mr. Charrington had been a handsome man in his youth; but a sedentary
life and a somewhat injudicious burning of the midnight oil had tried
his constitution. He had grown pale and thin, and his shoulders were
slightly round, so that he looked older than his years. Malcolm thought
Cedric's name of Dr. Dryasdust was not an inapt title. His eyes were a
little sunken, though very bright and keen, and his manner was
extremely courteous. He spoke very civilly to Malcolm.

"Mr. Charrington is hardly my idea of a country vicar," he observed as
they d