Not more than I shall get again," said Mark; and Fanny saw from the
form of his countenance that she had better not pursue the subject
any further at that moment.

"I suppose I shall have to go into residence almost immediately,"
said Mark, recurring to the more agreeable subject of the stall.

"And shall we all have to go and live at Barchester at once?" asked
Lucy.

"The house will not be furnished, will it, Mark!" said his wife. "I
don't know how we shall get on."

"Don't frighten yourselves. I shall take lodgings in Barchester."

"And we shall not see you all the time," said Mrs. Robarts with
dismay. But the prebendary explained that he would be backwards and
forwards at Framley every week, and that in all probability he would
only sleep at Barchester on the Saturdays, and Sundays--and, perhaps,
not always then.

"It does not seem very hard work, that of a prebendary," said Lucy.

"But it is very dignified," said Fanny. "Prebendaries are dignitaries
of the Church--are they not, Mark?"

"Decidedly," said he; "and their wives also, by special canon law.
The worst of it is that both of them are obliged to wear wigs."

"Shall you have a hat, Mark, with curly things at the side, and
strings through to hold them up?" asked Lucy.

"I fear that does not come within my perquisites."

"Nor a rosette? Then I shall never believe that you are a dignitary.
Do you mean to say that you will wear a hat like a common
parson--like Mr. Crawley, for instance?"

"Well--I believe I may give a twist to the leaf; but I am by no means
sure till I shall have consulted the dean in chapter."

And thus at the parsonage they talked over the good things that were
coming to them, and endeavoured to forget the new horse, and the
hunting boots that had been used so often during the last winter, and
Lady Lufton's altered countenance. It might be that the evils would
vanish away, and the good things alone remain to them. It was now
the month of April, and the fields were beginning to look green, and
the wind had got itself out of the east and was soft and genial, and
the early spring flowers were showing their bright colours in the
parsonage garden, and all things were sweet and pleasant. This was a
period of the year that was usually dear to Mrs. Robarts. Her husband
was always a better parson when the warm months came than he had been
during the winter. The distant county friends whom she did not know
and of whom she did not approve,