Jeffray had moved to the end of the seat where he could lean against the hedge of yew. He felt himself trembling in most unmanly fashion, and was wondering whether his emotion was evident to the parson. Dr. Sugg’s eyes appeared fixed reflectively on a distant tulip bed, and he sat with his hands together, his elbows resting on his knees. “May I ask whether it is true, sir,” he continued, “that you offered to give the girl a home at Rodenham?” Jeffray’s face was still afire. He had to steady himself before he could reply. “That is the truth,” he said, slowly, “and I have even been wondering whether Bess Grimshaw could have come to the priory while I was ill.” “She did come, sir,” quoth Dr. Sugg, rubbing his hands together solemnly. “Ah!” “And when they frightened her away I took her in at the parsonage, for the poor lass had run away from home rather than marry a man whom she piously hated.” The rector turned suddenly and looked with perfect innocence into Jeffray’s face. Its strained and restless expression startled the good man considerably, as did the dull gleam in the sunken eyes. “I hope I am not vexing your infirmity, sir,” he said, with some concern. Jeffray, shaking himself free from his thoughts, met Sugg’s stare with quiet composure. “Rector,” he said, “tell me all you know about this girl.” Sugg, pocketing his Christian curiosity for the moment, told Jeffray, very simply, how Bess had stopped to speak to him at the parsonage gate, how he had felt pity for her, and by Mary’s advice taken her as a servant. He confessed his liking for poor Bess, and spoke with some heat of the way she had been ambuscaded and snatched away out of his house. “Well, sir,” said the rector, at the end of the recital, “I was not a little vexed by the rough handling the girl received. She was a handsome, well-spoken lass, and gracious and kind as could be to Mary. My daughter saw the whole thing, sir, and blubbered over it all night. But what could I do, sir? I had no authority over the young woman’s person. I suppose by now they have forced her to marry that oaf of a cousin.” “I saw Bess married this morning,” Jeffray said, quietly. Dr. Sugg twitched his eyebrows. “Indeed, sir—indeed!” “Wilson and I were out driving and happened to turn down to Thorney Chapel. The wedding-party was coming out, and I suppose Mr. Mossop had been conducting the service. I can assure you, sir, that it was something of a shock to me.” The rector drummed on his knees with his right fist, and looked at Jeffray with a certain amount of puzzled sympathy. He was at loss to know why the master of Rodenham should feel himself so deeply concerned in the matter, nor was it usual for a young gentleman of birth to take a brotherly interest in a girl of Bess’s station. The suspicion glimmered across the rector’s mind that there might have been some unlawful passage of romance between the two, but he dismissed it as an insult to his belief in Jeffray’s honor.