"Oh, certainly, certainly! On the other hand, much obliged," said John; but all the time he couldn't help wondering why the rather precise old clergyman should have brought up this old story, and what in the world it had to do with the unhealthiness of High Beech. While pondering this in his slow mind, his thoughts were broken in upon with—
"If I were you, Mr. Tincroft, I wouldn't go near Beech Farm again."
"Do you really mean on account of its being—"
"Of its being an unhealthy spot for you to ruralise in," said Mr. Rubric, taking up the words. "You don't know what harm you may be doing," he added.
"Harm!"
"Yes, harm. You go there to see Miss Wilson—Sarah Wilson—do you not?"
"Dear me, sir! Not that I am aware of," replied John, aghast.
"Just so. But for all that I am afraid that young lady is the attraction. Now, listen to me. That young—young person is already engaged, as I suppose you are aware."
Yes, John was aware of the fact.
"And people about here are beginning to talk of your constant visits to the farm. You do not wish to do that young person an injury, I am sure."