Fanny that he had seen Carry over at Pycroft Common. The
mother's questions as to what her child was doing, how she was
living, whether she were ill or well, and, alas! whether she were
happy or miserable, who cannot imagine?

"She is anything but happy, I fear," said Mr. Fenwick.

"My poor Carry!"

"I should not wish that she should be happy till she be brought back
to the decencies of life. What shall we do to bring her back?"

"Would she come if she were let to come?" asked Fanny.

"I believe she would. I feel sure that she would."

"And what did he say, Mr. Fenwick?" asked the mother. The Vicar only
shook his head. "He's very good; to me he's ever been good as gold.
But, oh, Mr. Fenwick, he is so hard."

"He will not let you speak of her?"

"Never a word, Mr. Fenwick. He'd look at you, sir, so that the gleam
of his eyes would fall on you like a blow. I wouldn't dare;--nor yet
wouldn't Fanny, who dares more with him than any of us."

"If it'd serve her, I'd speak," said Fanny.

"But couldn't I see her, Mr. Fenwick? Couldn't you take me in the
gig with you, sir? I'd slip out arter breakfast up the road, and he
wouldn't be no wiser, at least till I war back again. He wouldn't ax
no questions then, I'm thinking. Would he, Fan?"

"He'd ask at dinner; but if I said you were out for the day along
with Mr. Fenwick, he wouldn't say any more, maybe. He'd know well
enough where you was gone to."

Mr. Fenwick said that he would think of it, and let Fanny know on
the following Sunday. He would not make a promise now, and at any
rate he could not go before Sunday. He did not like to pledge himself
suddenly to such an adventure, knowing that it would be best that he
should first have his wife's ideas on the matter. Then he took his
leave, and as he went out of the house he saw the miller standing at
the door of the mill. He raised his hand and said, "Good-bye," but
the miller quickly turned his back to him and retreated into his
mill.

As he walked up to his house through the village he met Mr.
Puddleham. "So Sam Brattle is off again, sir," said the minister.

"Off what, Mr. Puddleham?"

"Gone clean away. Out of the country."

"Who has told you that, Mr. Puddleham?"

"Isn't it true, sir? You ought to know, Mr. Fenwick, as you're one of
the bailsmen."

"I've just been at the mill, and I didn't see him."

"I don't think you'll ever see him at the mill again, Mr. Fenwick;
nor yet in Bullhampton, unless the p