“Dear, no. Bertie never thought so, my love. He is always saying what an influence you have, and always so beautifully employed. You must never live anywhere but in the country, Lucy. You could not have your poor people in a town, and you would miss them dreadfully. It gives one so many things to think of. And, Bertie, talking of things to think of, tell us about our new neighbours. You were talking to them yesterday, I heard from Fanny’s mother. And Lucy is like myself, she is dying to know.” “You mean the ladies at the Wren Cottage? Yes, I saw them yesterday,” said Bertie; but he showed no disposition to say more. “Tell Lucy about them. She has not seen them. And which is Mrs. Arthur--the tall one, or the little one? and is she a widow? and if she is not a widow, is her husband coming, or where is he? and what put it into her head to come to Oakley? Lucy is quite interested from what I told her; and she wants to know--” “You must wait till I have mastered your questions before I can reply. Is it the tall one or the little one who is Mrs. Arthur? the tall one, I think. Is she a widow? I can’t tell. She wears an odd sort of dress.” “It is more like a Sister’s dress than a widow’s. I know she wears a peculiar dress, Bertie. You need not tell me that. But you have talked to her--” “Could I ask her if she was a widow? and if not, when her husband was coming, and why she came to Oakley? I can’t interrogate new parishioners like that; and only a lady can find out such things. I don’t know anything about them,” said the Rector hastily. Evidently he had no wish to talk of them; and Lucy, looking at him keenly, set down this reluctance as a proof that he knew more than he said. This however was not at all the case. The Rector did not choose to speak of the new-comers, because he felt more interest in them than it was perhaps quite right to feel. He admired “the tall one” very much, and would have been rather glad to make sure that she was a widow. But, on the other hand, he did not want Lucy to suspect this, or to take the idea into her head that Mrs. Arthur was the object of his admiration. Was not Lucy herself his chief object? And if he could win her, it would be of very little importance about Mrs. Arthur. But in the meantime there seemed very little appearance of winning her, and Mrs. Arthur was interesting, and he had no desire to betray to Lucy that he found her so. In this, of course, the Rector was very foolish, for if there had been any chance of awaking Lucy to pique or jealousy, nothing could have been more to his advantage than that he should allow her to perceive his interest in the new inhabitants; but few men are wise enough for this, and Bertie, to his credit, be it said, had in such matters no wisdom at all. He owed it, however, to the impression made upon her mind by his reticence, that he could tell more about these strangers if he would, that Lucy almost invited his attendance on part of her way home.