e nothing whatever, but was still buoyed up
by the reaction of visionary hope. His need now was of communicating
his change of purpose to some friendly hearer. A week had passed since
he had exchanged a word with anyone but Mrs. Roots, and converse he
must. Why not with Mr. Warricombe? That was plainly the next step: to
see Martin and make known to him that after all he could not become a
clergyman. No need of hinting a conscientious reason. At all events,
nothing more definite than a sense of personal unfitness, a growing
perception of difficulties inherent in his character. It would be very
interesting to hear Mr. Warricombe's replies.

A few minutes after this decision was taken, he set off towards the Old
Tiverton Road, walking at great speed, flourishing his stick--symptoms
of the nervous cramp (so to speak) which he was dispelling. He reached
the house, and his hand was on the bell, when an unexpected opening of
the door presented Louis Warricombe just coming forth for a walk. They
exchanged amiabilities, and Louis made known that his father and mother
were away on a visit to friends in Cornwall.

'But pray come in,' he added, offering to re-enter.

Peak excused himself, for it was evident that Louis made a sacrifice to
courtesy. But at that moment there approached from the garden Fanny
Warricombe and her friend Bertha Lilywhite, eldest daughter of the
genial vicar; they shook hands with Godwin, Fanny exclaiming:

'Don't go away, Mr. Peak. Have a cup of tea with us--Sidwell is at
home. I want to show you a strange sort of spleenwort that I gathered
this morning.'

'In that case,' said her brother, smiling, 'I may confess that I have
an appointment. Pray forgive me for hurrying off, Mr. Peak.'

Godwin was embarrassed, but the sprightly girl repeated her summons,
and he followed into the house.

CHAPTER V

Having led the way to the drawing-room, Fanny retired again for a few
moments, to fetch the fern of which she had spoken, leaving Peak in
conversation with little Miss Lilywhite. Bertha was a rather shy girl
of fifteen, not easily induced, under circumstances such as these, to
utter more than monosyllables, and Godwin, occupied with the unforeseen
results of his call, talked about the weather. With half-conscious
absurdity he had begun to sketch a theory of his own regarding
rain-clouds and estuaries (Bertha listening with an air of the gravest
attention) when Fanny reappeared, followed by Sidwell.