"He won't do that, I'm afraid," said the Vicar.
"No, I'm afraid not. Did you know, Mr. Mercer, that Mrs. Carruthers was the Bishop's niece?"
"No, I didn't know that. Are you sure?"
"Yes; he told us so himself when Ethel and I went to call at the Palace. It was a little awkward for us, for, of course, they asked about her. But we were able to say that she had been abroad for some months, which, of course, they knew. So the subject passed off. But they are evidently rather fond of her, and when she comes back I think it is quite likely that they will come to stay with her."
This news wanted digesting. The Bishop of Med-Chester had only recently been appointed, and it would be rather an advantage to the neighbouring clergy for him to come amongst them more often than he would otherwise have done. But there were certain difficulties to be anticipated, since the lady who would attract him there had broken off relations with the clergy of her own parish, and the next.
It seemed already, however, to have been digested by the Misses Cooper. "We shall make friends with her again when she comes back," said Rhoda calmly. "We did make a mistake on the subject we quarrelled about, and there's no good saying we didn't. She behaved in a very unladylike way about it—I must say that; but if we can forgive it, and let bygones be bygones, I suppose she can. If she wished, she could probably do something to influence the Bishop about Denis. Denis had nothing to do with the cause of dispute, and used to be asked to the Park a good deal before we left off going there altogether. She always liked him, and in fact wanted to keep friends with him after she had been so rude to us; just as she did with father. That, of course, we couldn't have; but if we are all ready to make friends together again the objection will be removed. I think it is likely that her relationship to the Bishop will count for a good deal when it becomes necessary to appoint somebody to succeed dear father."
It did, indeed, seem likely. The Bishop, who was well connected, and thought to be a trifle worldly, had already, during his short term of office, instituted one incumbent on the recommendation of the Squire of the parish. The living was not a particularly good one, and the man was suitable; but there was the precedent. The betting, if there had been such a thing, on young Cooper's succeeding his father, would have gone up several points, on the relationship of Mrs. Carruthers to the Bishop becoming known.
"Personally," said the Vicar, "I was always inclined to like Mrs. Carruthers. I confess I was disturbed—even offended—when she refused to see me after her husband's death. But one can make excuses for a woman at such a time. One must not bear malice."
"Oh, no," said Rhoda. "Let's all forgive and forget. She is coming back in September, I believe. I should think you might see a good deal of her over at Abington, Mr. Mercer. She is bound to make friends with the Graftons. They're just her sort. Two very lively houses we have in our parishes, haven't we? Always somebody coming and going! I can't say I shall be sorry to be friends with Mrs. Carruthers again. It does cheer one up to see people from outside occasionally."
"Personally, I don't much care for this modern habit of week-end visiting in country houses," said Ethel. "It means that people are taken up with guests from outside and don't see so much of their neighbours. In old Mr. Carruthers's time, they had their parties, for shooting and all that, but there were often people who stayed for a week or two, and one got to know them. And, of course, when the family was here alone, there was much more coming and going between our two houses. It was much more friendly."