“Yes, it is a lovely place,” said the minister with a sigh. He was a middle-aged man dressed in careful clerical fashion like an Anglican priest--a costume new and rather distressing to Rowland, no such thing having been thought of in his early days before he left Scotland. At that period a white tie (or neckcloth, to use the proper phraseology) rather limp, and a black coat often shabby, were all that were thought of as necessary. But Mr. Dean, which was the name of the minister of Rosmore, liked to be called a clergyman rather than a minister, and would not at all have objected to hold the ecclesiastical rank which is denoted by his name. He was of the new school. He had a harmonium in his church, and a choir which chanted the psalms. He was very advanced, and his wife still more so. He shook his head a little as he made this reply. Yes, it was a lovely place--but--this latter word was inferred and not said. “I want to ask you,” said Rowland, by no means reassured by this, “about the society.” Mr. Dean now shrugged his shoulders a little. “You have perhaps heard of the chapter about snakes in Ireland,” he said. “I have always understood there weren’t any.” It is a very unjustifiable thing to cut in this way a quotation out of another person’s mouth. Mr. Dean was a little disconcerted, as was natural. “Well,” he said, “that’s just the thing, there is none. I answer the same to your question: there is no society. I hope that Chamberlayne did not bring you here on false pretences.” “I cannot remember that I asked him anything about it, nor would it have made any difference if I had. Society or not, it’s always this place I’ve set my heart upon. But what do you do and the other people in the place?” “Well,” said Mr. Dean, with a glance at his companion’s face, “the House, as we all call it, has been our great resource. Lady Jean--you must hear her quoted everywhere, and, I dare say, are sick of her name.” “No; I have not heard her quoted.” He remembered that he had not cared anything about it, who was quoted, his whole heart being fixed upon the house. “She’s very good company,” said the minister. “She was always our resource. And sometimes the Earl was here. I don’t want to speak evil of dignities, but his lordship was perhaps less of an acquisition. And they had visitors from time to time. That’s the great thing,” Mr. Dean added with perhaps just a touch of condescension to the simplicity of the millionaire, “in the country. You just fill the house, and one amuses the other. My wife and I have seen a great many interesting people in that way, which was a little compensation to us for being buried here. You will come in and take a cup of tea. This is the nearest way.”