“They say it keeps better,” said the curate drily. “Ours keeps very badly. By the way, Moredock incidentally gave me a bit of news.”
“What, dear?”
“Tom Candlish has gone from the Hall for a tour they say, to restore his health.”
“Left the Hall?”
“Yes, and I hope it will be many months before he returns.”
“Yes,” said Mary softly; “it will be better. There, now you will go on and see Mr North.”
“Oh, dear! who would be a slave?” sighed the curate. “Yes, madam, I will go, and when I come back I ought to go and see Mrs Berens, and then I shall be led into acts which will cause Mr Thompson to commence an action against me. Result: ruin, and our quitting Duke’s Hampton.”
“Did you not say to me that your imagination was too active?” said Mary, smiling.
“Yes, I did. What then?”
“You were quite right,” said Mary; “it is.”