ace clouded.

"Oh," he said, "is that all?"

"It's a fine one, too."

"It'd have to be, to accomydate Bill an' me an' the cask. I wanted a
house, as I thought I told ye."

"Oh, but I meant a country-seat," explained Miss Elizabeth.
"The Rectory is a house."

Again Mr. Jope's face brightened.

"An' so big," she went on, "that the Rector can't afford to live in
it. That's why 'tis to let. The rent's forty pound."

"Can I see him?"

"No, you can't; for he lives up to Lunnon an' hires Parson Spettigew
of Botusfleming to do the work. But it's my father has the lettin'
o' the Rectory if a tenant comes along. He keeps the keys."

"Then I 'd like to talk with your father."

"No you wouldn't," said the girl frankly; "because he's asleep.
Father drinks a quart o' cider at three o'clock every day of his
life, an' no one don't dare disturb him before six."

"Well, I like reggilar habits," said Mr. Jope, diving a hand into his
breeches' pocket and drawing forth a fistful of golden guineas.
"But couldn't you risk it?"

Miss Elizabeth's eyes wavered.

"No, I couldn'," she sighed, shaking her head. "Father's very
violent in his temper. But I tell you what," she added: "I might
fetch the keys, and you might go an' see the place for yourself."

"Capital," said Mr. Jope. While she was fetching these he finished
his beer. Then, having insisted on paying down a guinea for
earnest-money, he took the keys and her directions for finding the
house. She repeated them in the porch for the benefit of the taller
seaman; who, as soon as she had concluded, gripped the handles of his
barrow afresh and set off without a word. She gazed after the pair
as they passed down the street.

At the foot of it a by-lane branched off towards the creek-side.
It led them past a churchyard and a tiny church almost smothered in
cherry-trees--for the churchyard was half an orchard: past a tumbling
stream, a mill and some wood-stacks; and so, still winding downwards,
brought them to a pair of iron gates, rusty and weather-greened.
The gates stood unlocked; and our two seamen found themselves next in
a carriage-drive along which it was plain no carriage had passed for
a very long while. It was overgrown with weeds, and straggling
laurels encroached upon it on either hand; and as it rounded one of
these laurels Mr. Jope caught his breath sharply.

"Lor' lumme!" he exclaimed. "It is a seat, as the gel said!"

Mr. Adams, following close