conduct; but having once made
up his mind to consult Mr. Ambrose, he determined to tell him boldly what
had occurred, after receiving from him a promise of secrecy. The
messenger brought back word that the vicar would be delighted to come,
and at the hour named the sound of wheels upon the gravel announced the
arrival of Strawberry, the old mare, drawing behind her the vicar and his
aged henchman, Reynolds, in the traditional vicarage dogcart. A moment
later the vicar entered the library.

"I am very glad to see you, Mr. Ambrose," said the squire inhospitable
tones. "I have something to show you and I have something to say to you."
The two shook hands heartily. Independently of kindred scholarly tastes,
they were sympathetic to each other and were always glad to meet.

"It is just the weather for bookworms," answered the vicar in cheerful
tones. "Dear me, I never come here without envying you and wishing that
life were one long rainy afternoon."

"You know I am inclined to think I am rather an enviable person," said
Mr. Juxon, slowly passing his hand over his glossy hair and leading his
guest towards a large table near the fire. Several volumes lay together
upon the polished mahogany. The squire laid his hand on one of them.

"I have not deceived you," he said. "That is a very interesting volume.
It is the black letter Paracelsus I once spoke of. I have succeeded in
getting it at last."

"Dear me! What a piece of fortune!" said Mr. Ambrose bending down until
his formidable nose almost touched the ancient page.

"Yes," said the squire, "uncommonly lucky as usual. Now, excuse my
abruptness in changing the subject--I want to consult you upon an
important matter."

The vicar looked up quickly with that vague, faraway expression which
comes into the eyes of a student when he is suddenly called away from
contemplating some object of absorbing interest.

"Certainly," he said, "certainly--a--by all means."

"It is about Mrs. Goddard," said the squire, looking hard at his visitor.
"Of course it is between ourselves," he added.

The vicar's long upper lip descended upon its fellow and he bent his
rough grey eyebrows, returning Mr. Juxon's sharp look with interest. He
could not imagine what the squire could have to say about Mrs. Goddard,
unless, like poor John, he had fallen in love with her and wanted to
marry her; which appeared improbable.

"What is it?" he said sharply.

"I daresay you do not know that I am acqu