Instead of entering by the door in the centre, he turned the corner

of the house, where the eastern gable disclosed a window opening on a

sloping lawn full of bright flower-beds. The room within was lined

with books and stored with signs of parish work, but with a refined

orderliness reigning over the various little ornaments, and almost

betokening feminine habitation; and Alick exclaimed with admiration of a

large bowl of fresh roses, beautifully arranged.

"Traces of Bessie," said Mr. Clare; "she brought them this morning,

and spent nearly an hour in arranging them and entertaining me with her

bright talk. I have hardly been able to keep out of the room since, they

make it so delicious."

"Do you often see her?" asked Alick.

"Yes, dear child, she is most good-natured and attentive, and I take it

most kindly of her, so courted as she is."

"How do you get on with his lordship?"

"I don't come much in his way, he has been a good deal laid up with

sciatica, but he seems very fond of her; and it was all her doing that

they have been all this time at Littleworthy, instead of being in town

for the season. She thought it better for him."

"And where is Mr. Lifford?" asked Alick.

"Gone to M---- till Saturday."

"Unable to face the bride."

"I fear Ranger is not equally shy," said Mr. Clare, understanding a

certain rustle and snort to import that the dog was pressing his

chin hard upon Rachel's knee, while she declared her content with the

handsome creature's black depth of eye; and the cat executed a promenade

of tenderness upon Alick.

"How are the peacocks, Alick?" added Mr. Clare; "they, at least, are

inoffensive pets. I dreaded the shears without your superintendence, but

Joe insisted that they were getting lop-sided."

Alick put his head out at the window. "All right, sir; Joe has been a

little hard on the crest of the left-hand one, but it is recovering."

Whereupon, Rachel discovered that the peacocks were creatures of

yew-tree, perched at either end of the garden fence. Mr. Clare had found

them there, and preserved them with solicitous fidelity.

Nothing could be less like than he was to the grave, thin, stooping

ascetic in a long coat, that she had expected. He was a tall, well-made

man, of the same youthful cast of figure as his nephew, and a far

lighter and more springy step, with features and colouring recalling

those of his niece, as did the bright sunny playful sweetness of his

manner; his dark handsome eyes only betraying their want of sight by

a certain glassy immobility that contrasted with the play of the

expressive mouth. It was hard to guess why Bessie should have shunned

such an uncle. Alick took Rachel to the bedroom above the library,

and, like it, with two windows--one overlooking churchyard, river, and

hay-fields, the other commanding, over the peacock hedge, a view of the

playground, where Mr. Clare was seen surrounded by boys, appealing to

him on some disputed matter of cricket. There was a wonderful sense of

serenity, freshness, and fragrance, inexpressibly grateful to Rachel's

wearied feelings, and far more comfortable than the fine scenery through

which she had been carried, because no effort to look and admire was

incumbent on her--nay, not even an effort to talk all the evening. Mr.

Clare seemed to have perfectly imbibed the idea that rest was what she

wanted, and did not try to make small talk with her, though she sat

listening with pleased interest to the conversation between him and his

nephew--so home like, so full of perfect understanding of one another.




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