"I shan't see you again for ever so long, Yorick, unless you and Bessy change your minds and come up earlier."
"You must manage a visit to Royd in July."
"If I can!—it depends. But...."
The Rector glanced shrewdly up. "But anything particular?" said he.
"Well, Yorick, yes! Something particular. Only I don't know how to say it." As she sits there, a little flushed—or is it only the firelight?—one hand a face-rest, the other coaxing the burning coals into groups with a persuasive poker, the question that suggests itself is the old one—how comes she to be an old maid? A six-and-thirty maid, at any rate!
"I know what it's about, Addie. It's the Bill, and the Bishop."
"Yes, dear old boy." This was a great relief. "Now, do tell me, what shall you do?"
"You mean if the Bill passes?"
"Yes."
"I shall do nothing. Why should I?"