"Dear mother, I think we should understand each other—"
"Certainly," said Mrs. Wilkinson, laying her hands across each other on the table, and preparing for the onslaught.
"It is clearly my duty, as clergyman, to live in this parish, and to live in this house."
"And it is my duty also, as was excellently explained by Lord Stapledean after your poor father's death."
"My idea is this—" and then he paused, for his heart misgave him when he attempted to tell his mother that she must pack up and turn out. His courage all but failed him. He felt that he was right, and yet he hardly knew how to explain that he was right without appearing to be unnatural.
"I do not know that Lord Stapledean said anything about the house; but if he did, it could make no difference."
"Not the least, I should think," said the lady. "When he appointed me to the income of the parish, it could hardly be necessary that he should explain that I was to have the house also."
"Mother, when I accepted the living, I promised him that I would give you three hundred and fifty pounds out of the proceeds; and so I will. Adela and I will be very poor, but I shall endeavour to eke out our income; that is, of course, if she consents to marry me—"
"Psha!"
"—To eke out our income by taking pupils. To do that, I must have the house at my own disposal."