“I never dreamed,” said the vicar, excitedly, “I never dared to hope, to see you again!”
“Oh, the world is very small,” she replied gaily, “and people keep crossing each other at the most unexpected times and in the oddest of places. But I am so glad to see you. Are you doing well? You can scarcely imagine how curious it was when I recognized you to-day. Of course I had heard your name as our vicar, but I had no idea it could be you.”
“I am sure you are not more glad than I am,” rejoined the vicar. “Are you staying at Omberley? Have you friends here?”
She regarded him for a moment with a mixed expression of surprise and amusement.
“Do you not know that I am one of your parishioners now?” she asked, with a pleasant laugh.
He looked wonderingly into her dark, joyous eyes, and felt a sudden sense of chill and darkness within him, as a quick intelligence of who and what she now was flashed into his mind.
“Are you at the Manor?” he asked, in a low, agitated voice.
“Yes,” she answered, without noticing his emotion. “We arrived only yesterday, and have hardly had time yet to feel that we are at home; but I could not resist the inclination to see what sort of a church, and what sort of a vicar,” she added, with a glance of sly candour, “we had at St. Cuthbert’s. I am really so glad I came. Of course you will call and see us as soon and as often as you can, will you not? Mr. Haldane will be delighted, I know.”
“You are very kind,” said the vicar, scarcely aware of what he was saying.
“Indeed, I wish to be so,” she replied, smiling. “Of course you know Mr. Haldane?”