The next morning Grafton went down to his Estate Office in the village to see Worthing. They had a little business to transact together. When it had been finished Grafton said, "By the bye, the Mercers dined with us last night. They brought rather a surprising piece of news. Mercer has made up his mind that he has borne the heat and burden of the day in Abington long enough. He is going to retire, and live in Devonshire--in a village where he can do a little clerical work for a friend." Worthing stared at him open-mouthed, and then laughed heartily. "By Jove, you're a wonder," he said. "How did you do it?" "How did I do what? I don't know what you're talking about. I'm telling you about Mercer. It's a charming house they're going to. Mrs. Mercer brought a photograph of it. Mercer doesn't want to live in idleness. Though he's borne the burden and heat of the day in this humming hive of population, he still feels he has a few more years of work in him for the good of the community. He isn't going to be a curate exactly; he's going to help his friend, if he doesn't fall out with him--but he didn't say that." "Is he really going, or are you pulling my leg?" "Why should I pull your leg? He's going next month. He's already looking about for somebody to get up a testimonial to him. He didn't tell me that either, but I gathered it. He hoped there'd be no fuss. He'd prefer to say good-bye to his friends and go quietly--no illuminated addresses, or anything of that sort. But I gathered that he won't refuse one if it is offered. I rather fancy he has you in his mind, James, as the right person to see about it." "I'm damned if I do," said Worthing. CHAPTER VII A MORNING RIDE Caroline and her father rode out very early one morning at the beginning of June. One of the habits they had formed was to seize to themselves the delicious freshness of the new day, unspoilt by the smoke and stir of towns. She and he were alone at the Abbey. After more than a year in which the London house had scarcely been used, they were beginning to discuss the advisability of giving it up altogether. They discussed it now as they rode across the dewy grass of the park, on their way to the high ground which would bring them to their favourite view across miles of southward facing country to the sea. "You see, darling," Caroline was saying, "we always want to be here when we are there, and we very seldom want to be there when we are here. Beatrix generally stays with Aunt Katharine or Aunt Mary, anyhow, and you like staying at your Club if you have to go up alone. Now that Barbara has gone to Paris the Dragon won't have to be in London to look after her, as we thought she must if she went up for classes." "And what about you, Cara? You shirked most of your London gaieties last year. Are you going to cut yourself off from them altogether?"