"It does, an enormous difference! And I have no desire to go back to town. I couldn't leave Uncle Edgar at present. He is not able to take any services, and I have to arrange for locum tenens to come once every Sunday, and do a good deal of what uncle used to do. Then a great blow has fallen upon us. I have said nothing to uncle about it, for it may not come to pass in his lifetime, but a lot of engineers have been out here with a view to making our lake into a huge reservoir to supply one of the big northern towns with water. And to do this, they're actually going to submerge our dear little church, and the hotel, and perhaps this vicarage itself. They're going to raise the level of the lake by damming it up. I don't understand how they're going to do it, but this dear little quiet corner will be no more. I remember how I hated it, and only a year ago! It's a kind of judgment upon me, isn't it? Only of course it will take a long time to complete, and at present they're only at the discussion stage. They say the church will be moved elsewhere, but that won't be the same at all. I dare not let uncle know. He is not to be worried about anything, Dr. Ogilvy says." Anstice was really distressed at this piece of news. "I have never seen such an exquisite spot as this is," she said. "I felt it afresh to-day as we rode round the edge of the lake. It seems sacrilege to drown a church, and that a mediæval one. Are you sure it is true?" "Yes, I spoke to the head engineer myself. The town corporation have bought thirty-six miles of it. Isn't it a shame? It makes me very determined to stay here as long as I can." Their talk was interrupted by Dr. Ogilvy's appearance. He came to see the Vicar every few days, and this was one of his days. Anstice saw him before she left. He told her that the Vicar was failing rapidly, and that he doubted if he would outlive the summer. And then, before he went, Anstice noted something that sent her home much comforted as regards Louise. She could not mistake the look in the young doctor's eyes as he walked with Louise to the gate of the Vicarage, and stood there talking to her, before he took his departure. Anstice was quick to scent the budding romance, and rejoiced in her heart at the thought of happiness rewarding Louise's devotion to her uncle. Yet a little sigh followed her pleasant musings; and she was suddenly roused from them by Josie saying: "You're much duller, Steppie, when Dad is away than when he is home. You always seem shut up to thinking." "Am I?" laughed Anstice. "I must open myself at once then, Josie! I don't like dull people. I never could bear them." And after that she exerted herself, and the rest of the ride was a lively time with them all. It was only two weeks later that Louise wrote to tell Anstice of her engagement.