Mrs. Box from that day was unsettled in her principles, and, though in the interests of trade she made no reply, it became very clear to her that clergy and clergy’s belongings who interfered with what they had nothing to do with, were extremely troublesome. Mrs. Egerton, however, walked on with a conviction that she had said no more than was her duty, and a serene unconsciousness of having fostered the first flying seeds of Dissent. She was disconcerted when, on being shown into Mr. Sandford’s parlour by Sarah--who paused in the doorway to sniff and put her apron to her eyes, and secure a word of sympathy in respect to ‘poor missis’--she found the old man alone. The visit was by way of being one of condolence to him; but when Mrs. Egerton looked round the familiar little room, and saw no trace of the presence of any stranger, she was, there could be no doubt, disappointed. Her eye and mind took in this fact even while she advanced to the old gentleman with her hands stretched out, and a perfectly genuine pang of regret and pity in her heart. She herself missed the pretty, old, kind face that always brightened at the sight of her. Her eyes filled with natural and most genuine tears as she took Mr. Sandford’s hand; for a moment something rose in her throat which hindered her speech: and yet she was able to feel that her visit would be a failure if this were all. She recovered her voice after a moment, and sat down beside the old gentleman’s chair. ‘I hope, at least,’ she said, faltering a little, ‘that there was not much suffering. She was so sweet and patient. It is so dreadful to come back and find her gone--without a word.’ ‘She was always fond of you,’ he said, with that little, broken sob in his voice which was his way of giving vent to his sorrow. ‘And I was very fond of her,’ cried the visitor. ‘It was a comfort always, whatever was troubling me, to come and see her pretty, kind face. But, though it is our loss, it is her gain. We must not forget that. How happy she must be now!’ ‘So they say,’ said the old gentleman; ‘but I can’t very well understand for my part how she can be so happy in a strange place. For it will be a strange place to her without me.’ ‘Oh, my dear old friend, we must not think of things in that way, as if this world were the model of everything. It must be such a very different life.’ ‘Yes, I suppose it must be very different,’ he said, musing, leaning with his hand upon his knee, ‘but she was old to begin in a new way.’ ‘But she is not old now,’ said the comforter. ‘We may be sure of that. With such a new beginning everything must be renewed too.’ ‘I suppose you must be right, Mrs. Egerton; but we were so used to our old ways. A little rheumatism, a bit of a cold now and then was all we had to disturb us. I should have been very well pleased to put up with it. And she too----’ ‘But we can’t go on living for ever, Mr. Sandford.’