“Oh, I don’t want him,” replied I, “now that he has a good master; I’m quite satisfied.” “You take it for granted that I am a good one, then?” The man and the dog departed, and I returned home, full of gratitude to heaven for so much bliss, and praying that my hopes might not again be crushed. CHAPTER XXV. CONCLUSION “Well, Agnes, you must not take such long walks again before breakfast,” said my mother, observing that I drank an extra cup of coffee and ate nothing—pleading the heat of the weather, and the fatigue of my long walk as an excuse. I certainly did feel feverish and tired too. “You always do things by extremes: now, if you had taken a _short_ walk every morning, and would continue to do so, it would do you good.” “Well, mamma, I will.” “But this is worse than lying in bed or bending over your books: you have quite put yourself into a fever.” “I won’t do it again,” said I. I was racking my brains with thinking how to tell her about Mr. Weston, for she must know he was coming to-morrow. However, I waited till the breakfast things were removed, and I was more calm and cool; and then, having sat down to my drawing, I began—“I met an old friend on the sands to-day, mamma.” “An old friend! Who could it be?” “Two old friends, indeed. One was a dog;” and then I reminded her of Snap, whose history I had recounted before, and related the incident of his sudden appearance and remarkable recognition; “and the other,” continued I, “was Mr. Weston, the curate of Horton.” “Mr. Weston! I never heard of him before.” “Yes, you have: I’ve mentioned him several times, I believe: but you don’t remember.” “I’ve heard you speak of Mr. Hatfield.” “Mr. Hatfield was the rector, and Mr. Weston the curate: I used to mention him sometimes in contradistinction to Mr. Hatfield, as being a more efficient clergyman. However, he was on the sands this morning with the dog—he had bought it, I suppose, from the rat-catcher; and he knew me as well as it did—probably through its means: and I had a little conversation with him, in the course of which, as he asked about our school, I was led to say something about you, and your good management; and he said he should like to know you, and asked if I would introduce him to you, if he should take the liberty of calling to-morrow; so I said I would. Was I right?” “Of course. What kind of a man is he?” “A very _respectable_ man, I think: but you will see him to-morrow. He is the new vicar of F——, and as he has only been there a few weeks, I suppose he has made no friends yet, and wants a little society.”