It was, and the visitor was announced as “Mr. Touchett;” a small, dark, thin young clergyman he was, of a nervous manner, which, growing more nervous as he shook hands with Rachel, became abrupt and hesitating.
“My call is—is early, Lady Temple; but I always pay my respects at once to any new parishioner—resident, I mean—in case I can be of any service.”
“Thank you, I am very much obliged,” said Fanny, with a sweet, gracious smile and manner that would have made him more at ease at once, if Rachel had not added, “My cousin is quite at home here, Mr. Touchett.”
“Oh yes,” he said, “so—so I understood.”
“I know no place in England so well; it is quite a home to me, so beautiful it is,” continued Fanny.
“And you see great changes here.”
“Changes so much for the better,” said Fanny, smiling her winning smile again.
“One always expects more from improvements than they effect,” put in Rachel, severely.
“You have a large young party,” said Mr. Touchett, looking uneasily towards Lady Temple.
“Yes, I have half a dozen boys and one little girl.”