“I really do not know as yet; Mark talks of taking lodgings for his first month’s residence.”
“But he will have the house, will he not?”
“Oh, yes; I suppose so.”
“I fear he will find it interfere with his own parish—with his general utility there: the schools, for instance.”
“Mark thinks that, as he is so near, he need not be much absent from Framley, even during his residence. And then Lady Lufton is so good about the schools.”
“Ah! yes; but Lady Lufton is not a clergyman, Miss Robarts.”
It was on Lucy’s tongue to say that her ladyship was pretty nearly as bad, but she stopped herself.
At this moment Providence sent great relief to Miss Robarts in the shape of Mrs. Crawley’s red-armed maid-of-all-work, who, walking up to her master, whispered into his ear that he was wanted. It was the time of day at which his attendance was always required in his parish school; and that attendance being so punctually given, those who wanted him looked for him there at this hour, and if he were absent, did not scruple to send for him.
“Miss Robarts, I am afraid you must excuse me,” said he, getting up and taking his hat and stick. Lucy begged that she might not be at all in the way, and already began to speculate how she might best unload her treasures. “Will you make my compliments to Mrs. Robarts, and say that I am sorry to miss the pleasure of wishing her good-bye? But I shall probably see her as she passes the school-house.” And then, stick in hand, he walked forth, and Lucy fancied that Bobby’s eyes immediately rested on the bag of gingerbread-nuts.
“Bob,” said she, almost in a whisper, “do you like sugar-plums?”