“And they will be quite comfortable at the parsonage,” said Lucy.
“I do not at all doubt that,” said Mr. Crawley; “but too much of such comforts will unfit them for their home; and—and I could have wished that I had been consulted more at leisure before the proceeding had been taken.”
“It was arranged, Mr. Crawley, when I was here before, that the children had better go away,” pleaded Lucy.
“I do not remember agreeing to such a measure, Miss Robarts; however— I suppose they cannot be had back to-night?”
“No, not to-night,” said Lucy. “And now I will go in to your wife.” And then she returned to the house, leaving the two gentlemen at the door. At this moment a labourer’s boy came sauntering by, and the dean, obtaining possession of his services for the custody of his horse, was able to dismount and put himself on a more equal footing for conversation with his friend.
“Crawley,” said he, putting his hand affectionately on his friend’s shoulder, as they both stood leaning on the little rail before the door; “that is a good girl—a very good girl.”
“Yes,” said he slowly; “she means well.”
“Nay, but she does well; she does excellently. What can be better than her conduct now? While I was meditating how I might possibly assist your wife in this strait—”
“I want no assistance; none, at least, from man,” said Crawley, bitterly.
“Oh, my friend, think of what you are saying! Think of the wickedness which must accompany such a state of mind! Have you ever known any man able to walk alone, without assistance from his brother men?”