ssons?"

She thought of Alban--and betrayed herself by a heightened color. The
moment after, she changed the subject. Mirabel could no longer resist
the conclusion that Francine had told him the truth.

"When do you leave us," she inquired.

"To-morrow is Saturday--I must go back as usual."

"And how will your deserted parish receive you?"

He made a desperate effort to be as amusing as usual.

"I am sure of preserving my popularity," he said, "while I have a cask
in the cellar, and a few spare sixpences in my pocket. The public spirit
of my parishioners asks for nothing but money and beer. Before I went to
that wearisome meeting, I told my housekeeper that I was going to make
a speech about reform. She didn't know what I meant. I explained that
reform might increase the number of British citizens who had the right
of voting at elections for parliament. She brightened up directly. 'Ah,'
she said, 'I've heard my husband talk about elections. The more there
are of them (_he_ says) the more money he'll get for his vote. I'm all
for reform.' On my way out of the house, I tried the man who works in
my garden on the same subject. He didn't look at the matter from the
housekeeper's sanguine point of view. 'I don't deny that parliament once
gave me a good dinner for nothing at the public-house,' he admitted.
'But that was years ago--and (you'll excuse me, sir) I hear nothing of
another dinner to come. It's a matter of opinion, of course. I don't
myself believe in reform.' There are specimens of the state of public
spirit in our village!" He paused. Emily was listening--but he had not
succeeded in choosing a subject that amused her. He tried a topic more
nearly connected with his own interests; the topic of the future. "Our
good friend has asked me to prolong my visit, after Sunday's duties are
over," he said. "I hope I shall find you here, next week?"

"Will the affairs of your parish allow you to come back?" Emily asked
mischievously.

"The affairs of my parish--if you force me to confess it--were only an
excuse."

"An excuse for what?"

"An excuse for keeping away from Monksmoor--in the interests of my own
tranquillity. The experiment has failed. While you are here, I can't
keep away."

She still declined to understand him seriously. "Must I tell you in
plain words that flattery is thrown away on me?" she said.

"Flattery is not offered to you," he answered gravely. "I beg your
pardon for having led to the mist