"Ah, I am not likely to forget old friends; but I mean that the years of almost changeless life here are only the impression of a morning sky, compared with the crowded day that has followed." Was the suspicion well founded? "Then you've been bitten by the dog Town, and go hunting for a hair of him!" Eunice smiled at her conceit, and Henry laughed with rising eyebrows, that said: "This young lady has improved wonderfully." "Good, Eunice; very good! You have a turn for metaphor, I see." The "Eunice" slipped out, and immediately brought a deeper tinge of colour to the girl's cheek. The man was sallow, but his eyes looked away from her after it was out. "Do you read much, or are your duties at the vicarage engrossing?" was said with an air of friendly interest only. "Engrossing, yes. You see, I've to play little mother. One of my charges is ten and the other nearly seventy. So I feel a centenarian. But I don't get much time for reading, what with visiting in the parish and keeping the vicarage in order. No; I'm not a bit clever, and I have only a dark idea of what a metaphor is." "Ah, you should tell that to the marines," was all that Henry could say by way of comment. He had made obvious conversational progress in the outer world, but there was an artificial touch about his talk--a literary touch--that was not quite equal to his swimming dolphin-like, in a sea of talk, around this child of Nature. "You are liking Laysford, I hear," the little mother said, after some paces in silence. "Immensely! The place teems with life. You've just to stir it and behold a boiling pot of human interest." "And how is the stirring done?" "Ah, there you have me! That's the worst of metaphors. I must rid myself of the habit; it comes, I fancy, of too much Meredith on an empty head." "Dear me! And what is Meredith?" "It is a man that writes things." "Like you?" "Not like me, I hope. He writes for all time; I for an hour--literally. But don't let's talk of writing. There are greater things to do in this world. Unless one were a Meredith." "You didn't always think so." "No; but I've learned young, and that's a good thing. When I read Meredith I hide my face at the thought of writing anything. But you've done very well, so far, without books, if I'm to believe your own story." "I suppose folk lived before printing was invented?" "I used to wonder how they did; but now I am willing to believe it possible." "You will come and see Mr. Needham at the vicarage, while you are here, I hope? He often talks about you." "I shall be delighted.... And you? You will give us a peep at the old house?" "Oh, yes! Dora and I are bosom friends." "Early next week you can look for me to have a chat with ... Mr. Needham." "I'll be in soon ... to see Dora."