"Humph! `T. Candlish, 24,'" said Salis, reading aloud. "The new baronet is going to favour the church, then, with his presence, I suppose," he added sarcastically, as Moredock drew a breath full of relief, but shivered again as he saw the curate glance at the mausoleum. "Noo squire's, is it, sir?" "Yes, and I beg his pardon," said the curate gravely, as he thought of how lately the young man's brother had been laid there to rest. "Moredock, ask Mrs Page to carefully wash and iron the handkerchief, and then you can send one of the school children over with it to the Hall." "Yes, sir," said the sexton, with a feeling of relief. "Now come into the vestry. I want to talk to you." "Grumbling again--grumbling again," muttered the old man, as he followed his superior, to stand before him, humbly waiting for the lecture he expected to receive, but with his conscience quite at rest respecting the vault. "Now, Moredock," said Salis, "I have received a letter from Mr May, in which he speaks very severely of the state of the churchyard." "Why, he never said nothing when he were here." "No; it seems as if he preferred to write, and in addition to complaining of the state of the grass, he thinks that the walks are in very bad condition." "Why didn't he say so, then?" "I tell you he preferred to write." "How can I help the place looking bad when they sheep as Churchwarden Candlish put in was always galloping over the graves!" "Yes; the sheep do make the place untidy," said the curate, with a sigh. "And now it'll be just as bad as ever, for Squire Tom sent a fresh lot in 'smorning by one of his men." "But the walks, Moredock--the weeds in the walks. You know I've complained before." "Well, look how bad my back's been. How could I weed walks with a back as wouldn't bend; and seems to me, parson, as a man as has seen a deal, as it 'd be better if you mended your own ways about church 'fore you finds fault wi' an old servant like me." "What do you mean?" said the curate sternly. "Why, I mean that," said the old man, pointing to the floor with an extremely grubby finger. "I've got it to keep clean, and I do it; but you grumbled at me for smoking a pipe one day when I was digging a nasty grave. You said it wer'n't decent to smoke in the churchyard." "I did, Moredock, and I repeat it." "And I say as 'tarn't decent to smoke in vestry, and chuck the bits o' cigars about. You're always a-smoking now." Salis turned crimson as he followed the direction of the pointing finger, and saw several traces of white ash and the stump of a cigar. "Why, Moredock, I--I--" "There, don't go and deny it, parson. You've took to smoking bad as any one now; and I've allus done my best about church, and it comes hard to be found fault on, and if it's coming to this, sooner I goes the better, and sooner Mr May finds fault with you the better, too."