charming lady—­and—­I believe—­I am sure”—­and his remarks become somewhat rambling and disjointed—­“yes—­I am sure she will try to do good in the village now that she has taken up her residence here.  That is, of course, if she stays.  She may get tired of country life--that is quite probable—­but—­it is, of course, a good thing to have a strong social influence in the neighbourhood—­especially a woman’s influence—­and I should say Miss Vancourt will make herself useful and beloved in the parish—–­”

At this period he caught Adderley’s eyes fixed upon him somewhat quizzically, and realised that he was getting quite ‘parochial’ in his talk.  He checked himself abruptly and swung open his garden gate.

“I’m sorry I can’t ask you in just now,”—­he said—­“I have some pressing work to do—–­”

“Don’t mention it!” and Julian clasped him by the hand fervently—­“I would not intrude upon you for worlds!  You must be alone, of course.  You are delightful!—­yes, my dear Walden, you are delicious!  So new--so fresh!  It is a privilege to know you!  Good-bye for the moment!  I may come and talk to you another time!”

“Oh, certainly!  By all means!” And Walden, shaking hands with all the vigour Adderley’s grasp enforced upon him, escaped at last into the sanctuary of his own garden, and hastened under the covering shadow of the trees that bordered the lawn.  Adderley watched him disappear, and then went on his own way with a gratified air of perfect complacency.

“Those who ‘never discuss women’ are apt to be most impressed by them,”—­he sagaciously reflected—­“The writhings of a beetle on a pin are not so complex or interesting as the writhings of a parson’s stabbed senses!  Now a remarkable psychological study might be made—­ My good friend!  Kindly look where you are going!”

This last remark was addressed to a half-drunken man who pushed past him roughly without apology, almost jostling him off the foot-path.  It was Oliver Leach, who hearing himself spoken to, glanced round sullenly with a muttered oath, and stumbled on.

“That is Miss Vancourt’s dismissed agent,”—­said Adderley, pausing a moment to watch his uncertain progress up the road.  “What an objectionable beast!”

He walked on, and, his former train of thought being entirely disturbed, he went to the ‘Mother Huff,’ where he was a frequent visitor, his elaborate courtesies to Mrs. Buggins enabling him to hear from that lady’s pious lips all the latest news, scandal and gossip, true or untrue, concerning the whole neighbourhood.

Walden, meanwhile, finding himself once more alone in his own domain, breathed freely.  The faithful Nebbie, who had passed all the hours of his master’s absence, ‘on guard’ by the window of the vacant study, came running to meet him as he set foot upon the lawn,—­three or four doves that were brooding on the old tiled and gabled roof of the rectory, rose aloft in a short flight and descended