“Ah! is it so indeed? But, my child, consider…”
“Consider, Monsieur le Philosophe, that you don’t understand the matter at all; you just leave it to us to settle, and attend to what De Winton is saying to you.”
This last was a difficult injunction, inasmuch as the admiral was saying nothing. “Come along with me out of the reach of busybodies, Franceline,” he continued, and, drawing her arm within his own, they walked off to the summer-house, where Clide, without being invited, followed them. There was a long and most interesting conference, which terminated in Franceline’s standing on tiptoe to be kissed by her old friend, and declaring that it was very naughty of him to spoil her so.
“Show him in,” said the vicar, laying down his pen, and a stout, rosy-cheeked, fair-haired young man in corduroys and top-boots was ushered into the study.
“Well Griggs, I’m glad to see you. Sit down,” said Mr. Langrove in the bland, familiar tone of kindness that put simple folk at ease with him directly. “You’ve come to consult me on a matter of importance, eh?”
“Of importance,” echoed the farmer, twirling his round hat between his knees and contemplating his boots—“of great importance, sir.”
“Well, let me hear what it is. If I can help you in any way, you may count upon me,” replied the vicar encouragingly, drawing his chair a little nearer.
“Thank you, I don’t want help,” he said with a significant emphasis. “I know where to look for it when I do,” turning up his eyes sanctimoniously to heaven.
“Certainly, that help is ever at hand for us. But what is your business with me?”
“You’ll not take it amiss if I speak frankly, sir. We can none of us do more than bear testimony to the truth, according to our lights,” explained the farmer; and, Mr. Langrove having by a grave nod acceded to this proposition, he resumed: “You contradicted yourself in the pulpit last Sunday. It’s been repeated to me that you found fault with my teaching concerning faith and works; and so, for sake of them as look to me for guidance, I came up to hear what views you held on that head, as the gospel of the day said: ‘And every man shall be judged according to his works.’ Now, sir, it appears to me the end of the sermon was a flat contradiction of the beginning.”