"Ho!" exclaimed Dives, bringing his right shoulder forward, so as nearly to confront his brother. They had both been standing side by side, with their backs, according to the good old graceful English fashion, to the fire. "Here's his note--came to-night. He'll be here to dinner, I suppose, by the six o'clock fast train to Slowton." "Thanks," said Dives, taking the note and devouring it energetically. "Just half a dozen lines of three words each--always so, you know. Poor old Sammy! I always liked old Sammy--a good old cock at school he was--great fun, you know, but always a gentleman." Sir Jekyl delivered these recollections standing with his hands behind his back, and looking upwards with a smile to the ceiling, as the Rev. Dives Marlowe read carefully every word of the letter. "Sorry to see his hand begins to shake a little," said Dives, returning the interesting manuscript. "Time for it, egad! He's pretty well on, you know. We'll all be shaky a bit before long, Dives." "How long does he stay?" "I think only a day or two. I have his first note up-stairs, if I did not burn it," answered the Baronet. "I'm glad I'm to meet him--_very_ glad indeed. I think it's five years since I met his lordship at the consecration of the new church of Clopton Friars. I always found him very kind--very. He likes the school-house fellows." "You'd better get up your parochial experiences a little, and your theology, eh? They say he expects his people to be alive. You used to be rather good at theology--usen't you?" Dives smiled. "Pretty well, Jekyl." "And what do you want of him, Dives?" "Oh! he could be useful to me in fifty ways. I was thinking--you know there's that archdeaconry of Priors." Dives replied pretty nearly in a whisper. "By Jove! yes--a capital thing--I forgot it;" and Sir Jekyl laughed heartily. "Why do you laugh, Jekyl?" he asked, a little drily. "I--I really don't know," said the Baronet, laughing on. "I don't see anything absurd or unreasonable in it. That archdeaconry has always been held by some one connected with the county families. Whoever holds it must be fit to associate with the people of that neighbourhood, who won't be intimate, you know, with everybody; and the thing really is little more than a feather, the house and place are expensive, and no one that has not something more than the archdeaconry itself can afford it." The conversation was here arrested by a voice which inquired-- "Pray, can you tell me what day General Lennox returns?" The question was Lady Alice's. She had seemed to be asleep--probably was--and opening her eyes suddenly, had asked it in a hard, dry tone. "_I?_" said Sir Jekyl. "I don't know, I protest--maybe to-night--maybe to-morrow. Come when he may, he's very welcome." "You have not heard?" she persisted. "No, I have not," he answered, rather tartly, with a smile. Lady Alice nodded, and raised her voice--