The next morning Grafton went down to his Estate Office in the village to see Worthing. They had a little business to transact together. When it had been finished Grafton said, "By the bye, the Mercers dined with us last night. They brought rather a surprising piece of news. Mercer has made up his mind that he has borne the heat and burden of the day in Abington long enough. He is going to retire, and live in Devonshire—in a village where he can do a little clerical work for a friend."
Worthing stared at him open-mouthed, and then laughed heartily. "By Jove, you're a wonder," he said. "How did you do it?"
"How did I do what? I don't know what you're talking about. I'm telling you about Mercer. It's a charming house they're going to. Mrs. Mercer brought a photograph of it. Mercer doesn't want to live in idleness. Though he's borne the burden and heat of the day in this humming hive of population, he still feels he has a few more years of work in him for the good of the community. He isn't going to be a curate exactly; he's going to help his friend, if he doesn't fall out with him—but he didn't say that."
"Is he really going, or are you pulling my leg?"
"Why should I pull your leg? He's going next month. He's already looking about for somebody to get up a testimonial to him. He didn't tell me that either, but I gathered it. He hoped there'd be no fuss. He'd prefer to say good-bye to his friends and go quietly—no illuminated addresses, or anything of that sort. But I gathered that he won't refuse one if it is offered. I rather fancy he has you in his mind, James, as the right person to see about it."
"I'm damned if I do," said Worthing.