"Yes," he agreed, "it is not convenient,"—and he hesitated. "I cannot make it out," he went on, "Miles would have been sure to know if the house had a bad name in any way. I think I will go over and see him to-day, and tell him all about it—at least I shall inquire about some other house in the neighbourhood—and perhaps I will tell him our reason for leaving this."
He did so—he went over to Raxtrew that very afternoon, and, as I quite anticipated would be the case, he told me on his return that he had taken both our friends into his confidence.
"They are extremely concerned about it," he said, "and very sympathising, though, naturally, inclined to think us a parcel of very weak-minded folk indeed. But I am glad of one thing—the Rectory there, is to be let from the first of July for three months. Miles took me to see it. I think it will do very well—it is quite out of the village, for you really can't call it a town—and a nice little place in its way. Quite modern, and as unghost-like as you could wish, bright and cheery."
"And what will mamma think of our leaving so soon?" I asked.
But as to this father reassured me. He had already spoken of it to her, and somehow she did not seem disappointed. She had got it into her head that Finster did not suit Dormy, and was quite disposed to think that three months of such strong air were enough at a time.
"Then have you decided upon Raxtrew Rectory?" I asked.
"I have the refusal of it," said my father. "But you will be almost amused to hear that Miles begged me not to fix absolutely for a few days. He is coming to us to-morrow, to spend the night."
"You mean to see for himself?"
Father nodded.
"Poor Mr. Miles!" I ejaculated. "You won't sit up with him, I hope, father?"