the
subject. And if remarks injurious to his conduct were made by the
Stantiloups and the Momsons, they did not reach his ears. Very soon after
the return of the Peacockes there was a grand dinner-party at the palace,
to which the Doctor and his wife were invited. It was not a clerical
dinner-party, and so the honour was the greater. The aristocracy of the
neighbourhood were there, including Lady Anne Clifford, who was devoted,
with almost repentant affection, to her old friend. And Lady Margaret
Momson was there, the only clergyman's wife besides his own, who declared
to him with unblushing audacity that she had never regretted anything so
much in her life as that Augustus should have been taken away from the
school. It was evident that there had been an intention at the palace to
make what amends the palace could for the injuries it had done.

"Did Lady Anne say anything about the boys?" asked Mrs. Wortle, as they
were going home.

"She was going to, but I would not let her. I managed to show her that I
did not wish it, and she was clever enough to stop."

"I shouldn't wonder if she sent them back," said Mrs. Wortle.

"She won't do that. Indeed, I doubt whether I should take them. But if
it should come to pass that she should wish to send them back, you may be
sure that others will come. In such a matter she is very good as a
weathercock, showing how the wind blows." In this way the dinner-party at
the palace was in a degree comforting and consolatory.

But an incident which of all was most comforting and most consolatory to
one of the inhabitants of the parsonage took place two or three days after
the dinner-party. On going out of his own hall-door one Saturday
afternoon, immediately after lunch, whom should the Doctor see driving
himself into the yard in a hired gig from Broughton--but young Lord
Carstairs. There had been no promise, or absolute compact made, but it
certainly had seemed to be understood by all of them that Carstairs was
not to show himself at Bowick till at some long distant period, when he
should have finished all the trouble of his education. It was understood
even that he was not to be at Carstairs during Mary's visit,--so
imperative was it that the young people should not meet. And now here he
was getting out of a gig in the Rectory yard! "Halloa! Carstairs, is
that you?"

"Yes, Dr. Wortle,--here I am."

"We hardly expected to see you, my boy."

"No,--I suppose not. Bu