'Very feeble, very deaf; but she will be delighted to see you. There is no fear of her not remembering you, though she was quite lost when Mrs. Egremont came in yesterday.'
'Mrs. Egremont!' he repeated with a little start.
'Mrs. Mark. Ah! we have got used to the name—the Honourable Mrs. Egremont, as the community insist on calling her. What a sunny creature she is!'
'And Miss Egremont, what do you hear of her?'
'She writes long letters, poor child. I hope she is fairly happy. Are you come home for good, or is this only a visit?'
'I have no intention of returning. I have been winding up my good cousin's affairs at Melbourne.'
Mary's heart bounded again with a sense of joy, comfort, and protection; but she did not long keep Mr. Dutton to herself, for every third person they met gladly greeted him, and they were long in getting to St. Ambrose's Road, now dominated by a tall and beautiful spire, according to the original design. They turned and looked in at the pillared aisles, stained glass, and handsome reredos.
'Very different from our struggling days,' said Mr. Dutton.
'Yes,' said Mary, with half a sigh. 'There's the new vicar,' as he passed with a civil nod. 'He has three curates, and a house of Sisters, and works the parish excellently.'
'You don't speak as if you were intimate.'