He felt that his mother would rejoice with him almost more than Rachel. Now that he came to think of it his wife had never taken much to the thought of London; though he knew that she would do nothing to prevent him going. Had she not said when they had been talking about the possibility of him one day being offered a church there, "Where thou goest I will go?" But the remembrance of her words about London and her dislike of it, for a moment or two rather damped his spirits; but he knew she would not fail him now that the dream of his life was coming true. So full was he of the news the letter contained, that he forgot there was another one in his pocket till he was in the tram again on his way home. To his amusement, he found that this one was also an offer of a living; but one in the country. It was a good one, much better than the one offered to him in London; but this did not weigh with him in the least, and the fact of it being in the country at once made him dismiss it from his mind. In fact, he scarcely took in the Bishop's letter in which he said, that he felt sure a country life would be beneficial both for his wife and his son, adding that when he called at his house he had thought Rachel looking very tired and worn. Rachel was always so bright in her husband's presence that he supposed the Bishop must have called at an inconvenient time and that unfortunately Rachel had not been able to conceal the fact. He had not noticed anything wrong in her looks himself, and he did not recollect her once complaining of even a headache ever since her marriage. The Bishop evidently had got a wrong impression of her from his call. He would write and thank him for his kind thought of them but decline the country living and tell him why. Then he thrust the Bishop's letter into his pocket and made his way joyfully toward his mother's rooms. [Illustration] CHAPTER XXIII. LUKE SEES HIMSELF. Luke, full of his great news, ran upstairs to his mother's room, with the letter from London in his hands. He found her crouching over the fire in the big horsehair chair, the only armchair in the room. He was surprised that she did not look round at the sound of his footsteps and give him her usual smile of welcome. Instead, she stretched out her hand to him with averted eyes. "Mother what is it?" he asked. He knew she must have bad news of some kind and wanted to express her sympathy before she broke it to him. "My poor boy," was all she said. Luke took a chair by her and looked anxiously at her. She had been so much better lately, was able to walk a little and was getting altogether stronger, that her action perplexed him. Had the doctor given her a depressing account of herself, he wondered? Mrs. Greville's first words confirmed this fear. "Dr. Fleming has been here." "And surely he thinks you much better? Don't let him make you nervous about yourself, mother."