'What a horrible place Coombe Prior is!'

'I only know I wish you had more such tenants as Todd,' was Markham's answer. 'Pays his rent to a day, and improves his land.'

'But what sort of man is he?'

'A capital farmer. A regular screw, I believe; but that is no concern of mine.'

'There are all the cottages tumbling down.'

'Ay? Are they? I shouldn't wonder, for they are all in his lease; and he would not lay out an unproductive farthing. And a precious bad lot they are there, too! There were actually three of them poaching in Cliffstone hanger this autumn; but we have them in jail. A pretty pass of impudence to be coming that distance to poach.'

Guy used to be kindled into great wrath by the most distant hint of poachers; but now he cared for men, not for game; and instead of asking, as Markham expected, the particulars of their apprehension, continued-'The clergyman is that Halroyd, is he not?'

'Yes; every one knows what he is. I declare it went against me to take his offer for the living; but it could not be helped. Money must be had; but there! least said, soonest mended.'

'We must mend it,' said Guy, so decidedly, that Markham looked at him with surprise.

'I don't see what's to be done till Halroyd dies; and then you may give the living to whom you please. He lives so hard he can't last long, that is one comfort.'

Guy sighed and pondered; and presently Markham resumed the conversation.

'And what has brought you home at a moment's notice? You might as well have written two or three days before, at least.'

'I was waiting in hopes of going to Hollywell,' said Guy sorrowfully.

'Well, and what is the matter? You have not been quarrelling with your guardian, I hope and trust! Going the old way, after all!' exclaimed Markham, not in his usual gruff, grumbling note, but with real anxiety, and almost mournfulness.

'He took up some unjust suspicion of me. I could not bear it patiently, and said something that has offended him.'

'Oh, Sir Guy! hot and fiery as ever. I always told you that hasty temper would be the ruin of you.'

'Too true!' said Guy, so dejectedly, that the old man instantly grew kinder, and was displeased with Mr. Edmonstone.

'What could he have taken into his head to suspect you of?'

'Of gaming at St. Mildred's.'

'You have not?'

'Never!'

'Then why does not he believe you?'




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