"It is a great pity," said Magnus, thoughtfully. "What an anxiety to the poor sick mother!" "Who is quite an angel of goodness in her way, Mag, only too ready to look over those two fellows' faults. Bah! I haven't patience with them." "Why does not the Rector get them away?" "Get them away? Well, he has, over and over again, but they always come back. The townspeople call them _The Bad Shilling_ and _The Boomerang_ on that account. The Rector's a good old fellow, only obstinate and weak, and with too big an idea of his sacred prerogative, which the folks down there won't stand. Here, get well, Mag, and come down and help me rout the enemy." "I wish I could," sighed Magnus. "Only wants will, my lad. If you are using my billiard-table and horses it will keep those fellows off, but mind they don't rook you." "I thought you told me that Frank had made a lot of money at the gold fields?" "So he gives it out, but I don't believe it. If he had he wouldn't be borrowing of me and getting Perry-Morton to do bills for him." "It seems strange." "Strange! yes. I believe it's all gammon. Hang that fellow, I don't like him at all. Of course this is all in confidence, Mag." Magnus looked up at him with a smile. "My people tell me that he is always going over to Lewby, close by my place. It's one of the farms that came to me. Nice jolly farmer fellow there. Bluff chap, John Berry, with a pretty little wife fifteen years younger; and it seems there was something on between the lady and Master Frank before he went to the antipodes." "That's bad," said Magnus, frowning. "Damn bad," said Artingale; "but I try to make it smooth by thinking he is interceding for his brother." "Interceding for his brother? What do you mean?" "Well, you see, Mrs Berry was Rue Portlock, and Cyril has been paying attentions to her sister Sage." "Rue? Sage?" "Yes; rum idea. Two such pretty girls. I call 'em the sweet herbs. Quaint idea of their father." "And Cyril is paying attentions to one of them?" "Yes; little Sage. She is the Lawford schoolmistress, and engaged to some one else." "Humph! Better than paying attentions to a married lady, as his brother does." "Oh, bless him, he is not perfect. Master Cyril has an affair on at the ford just outside Lawford. There is a pretty wheelwright's wife--no, hang it, I mean the pretty wife of a wheelwright there. She used to be Julia's and Cynthia's maid, you know, and I hear that Master Cyril has been seen hanging about." "They seem to be a nice pair," said Magnus, gruffly. "Beauties," said Artingale, sharply. "Hang 'em, they shall have it warmly when once I have got Cynthia away. Of course I have to swallow it all now. There, you see how badly you're wanted. It's an unhappy family, and you would be doing a charitable act in giving Julia a good husband." "Let her marry Perry-Morton," said Magnus, changing his position with a weary sigh.