'Redding is full of news as usual,' he said, as Mrs. Fairchild handed him his tea. 'He is a good-natured man, but I wish he wouldn't talk quite so much.' 'He had some excuse for talking this evening,' said Celestina's mother; 'it is news of importance for every one at Seacove, and of course it must affect Mr. Redding a good deal. I shall be glad if the new clergyman is more hearty about improving the music.' Celestina so far had heard without taking in the drift of the conversation, but at the last words she pricked up her ears. 'Is there going to be a new clergyman--is old Dr. Bunton going away, mother?' she asked eagerly, though the moment after she reddened slightly, not at all sure that she was not going to be told that 'little girls should not ask questions.' But both Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were interested in the subject--I think for once they forgot that Celestina was only 'a little girl.' 'Yes,' the mother replied; 'he is giving up at last. That has been known for some weeks, but it is only to-day that it has been known who is to succeed him. Mr. Vane, that is the name, is it not?' she added, turning to her husband. 'The Reverend Bernard Vane, at present vicar of St. Cyprian's, somewhere in the west end of London--that is Redding's description of him,' Mr. Fairchild replied. 'I don't know how a fashionable London clergyman will settle down at Seacove, nor what his reasons are for coming here, I'm sure. I hope the change will be for good.' But his tone showed that he was not at all certain that it would prove so. 'Is he married?' asked Celestina's mother. 'Oh yes, by the bye, I remember Mr. Redding spoke of children, but old Captain Deal came in just as he was telling more and I could not hear the rest.' 'There are several children and Mrs. Vane a youngish lady still, he said. The old Rectory will want some overhauling before they come to it, I should say,' remarked Mr. Fairchild. 'It must be nigh upon forty years since Dr. Bunton came there, and there's not much been done in the way of repairs, save a little whitewashing now and then. The doctor and Mrs. Bunton haven't needed much just by themselves--but a family's different; they'll be needing nurseries and schoolrooms and what not, especially if they have been used to grand London ways.' Celestina had been turning her bright brown eyes from one parent to another in turn as they spoke. 'Is London much grander than Seacove?' she asked. 'I thought the Rectory was such a fine house.' Mrs. Fairchild smiled. 'It might be made very nice. There's plenty of room any way. And many clergymen's families are very simple and homely.' 'I wonder if there are any little girls,' said Celestina. 'And do you think they'll go to Miss Peters's to school, mother?' Her father turned on her rather sharply.