tle."

"And what have you been doing with him?"

"I'm half ashamed, and yet I fancy I'm right."

As he said this he looked across to Mary Lowther, who no doubt was
watching every turn of his face from the corner of her eye. "I've
just been and knocked under, and told him that the old place shall be
put to rights."

"That's your doing, Mary," said Mrs. Fenwick, injudiciously.

"Oh, no; I'm sure it is not. Mr. Gilmore would only do such a thing
as that because it is proper."

"I don't know about it's being proper," said he. "I'm not quite sure
whether it is or not. I shall never get any interest for my money."

"Interest for one's money is not everything," said Mrs. Fenwick.

"Nevertheless, when one builds houses for other people to live in,
one has to look to it," said the parson.

"People say it's the prettiest spot in the parish," continued Mr.
Gilmore, "and as such it shouldn't be let go to ruin." Janet remarked
afterwards to her husband that Mary Lowther had certainly declared
that it was the prettiest spot in the parish, but that, as far as
her knowledge went, nobody else had ever said so. "And then, you see,
when I refused to spend money upon it, old Brattle had money of his
own, and it was his business to do it."

"He hasn't much now, I fear," said Mr. Fenwick.

"I fear not. His family has been very heavy on him. He paid money
to put two of his boys into trade who died afterwards, and then for
years he had either doctors or undertakers about the place. So I just
went down to him and told him I would do it."

"And how did he take it?"

"Like a bear, as he is. He would hardly speak to me, but went away
into the mill, telling me that I might settle it all with his wife.
It's going to be done, however. I shall have the estimate next week,
and I suppose it will cost me two or three hundred pounds. The mill
is worse than the house, I take it."

"I am so glad it is to be done," said Mary. After that Mr. Gilmore
did not in the least begrudge his two or three hundred pounds. But he
said not a word to Mary, just pressed her hand at parting, and left
her subject to a possibility of a reversal of her sentence at the end
of the stated period.

On the next morning Mr. Fenwick drove her in his little open phaeton
to the station at Westbury. "You are to come back to us, you know,"
said Mrs. Fenwick, "and remember how anxiously I am waiting for my
Sunday dinners." Mary said not a word, but as she was driven roun