"I do not like Trennach," he went on. "I could not remain here. For the last two or three months," he added, in his candour, "I have been as restless as possible, wanting to get away from it."
"You want to be amongst a more civilized community," said the doctor, good-naturedly.
"Well—yes, Uncle Hugh. I do—when one is setting up for life."
"Then there's nothing more to be said," concluded Dr. Raynor.
So Frank held to his plan and his journey, and this morning was starting in pursuance of it. Never again, as he hoped, should he be living at Trennach. Just a few days, as it was arranged, he would remain to introduce the new doctor—who would probably come down when he did—to people and places; and then he would bid it farewell for ever, carrying Daisy with him.
Taking leave of his uncle and Edina, he set out to walk to the station, his light overcoat thrown back, and greeting every one he met with a kindly word and a gay smile. The sky overhead was blue and calm, giving promise that the day would be fair to its end; just as Frank's hopeful heart seemed to assume that his life's journey would be fair throughout its course.
"Good-morning, Mr. Raynor."
The salutation came from the young parson. He stood leaning on the stile of the Rectory garden, which overlooked the high-road. Frank, answering cordially, was intending to pass onwards. But Mr. Backup motioned to retard him.
"I am off to London," said Frank, gaily. "Can I do anything for you?"
"I will not detain you a moment; I want to say just a word," spoke the clergyman, feeling already uncommonly shy and nervous at the thought of what that word was. "Mr. Raynor, I—I—I beg you to believe that I have implicitly kept secret that—that matter which you requested me to keep. But——"