"He was everything that's bad," said Laurence, shortly. "Olive is now comforting Mrs. Drabble, poor soul! By the way, Mr. Brock, Margery told me about that wrist-button."
"Dear, dear; the poor child must not worry about that. I forgave her taking it; children will finger things, and Margery's mind was quite perverted by her father's peculiar views.--Still," he added, with a smile, "Margery really had more right to it than I. It originally belonged to Drabble."
"What! did you get it from him, then?"
"As a gift--yes. I saw it lying on his desk one day, and took it up to examine it. As it was of Indian workmanship, I asked him to give it to me as a curiosity. I was a missionary in India once, you know."
"Yes, I know. Did Drabble give it to you willingly?"
"Certainly. I should not have taken it otherwise. It is a pretty thing; Margery tells me that she gave it to Olive."
"Olive wears it as a brooch," replied Mallow, gloomily. He was distinctly puzzled.
He noticed, too, that the vicar was half dozing, and felt that perhaps he was overtaxing his strength.
"Well, I must be going now. Mr. Brock," said he, producing Dr. Carson's letter, "my principal reason for coming was to hand you this."
"What is it?" asked Brock, taking the blue envelope drowsily.