He was very anxious to begin his story to the brother alone. Indeed, as to that, his mind was quite made up; but Mrs. Brattle, who within the doors of that house held a position at any rate equal to that of her husband, did not seem disposed to give him the opportunity. She understood well enough that Mr. Fenwick had not come over from Bullhampton to shake hands with her husband, and to say a few civil words. He must have business, and that business must be about the Brattle family. Old Brattle was supposed to be in money difficulties, and was not this an embassy in search of money? Now Mrs. George Brattle, who had been born a Huggins, was very desirous that none of the Huggins money should be sent into the parish of Bullhampton. When, therefore, Mr. Fenwick asked the farmer to step out with him for a moment, Mrs. George Brattle looked very grave, and took her husband apart and whispered a word of caution into his ear. "It's about the mill, George; and don't you do nothing till you've spoke to me." Then there came a solid look, almost of grief, upon George's face. There had been a word or two before this between him and the wife of his bosom as to the affairs of the mill. "I've just been seeing somebody at Salisbury," began the Vicar, abruptly, as soon as they had crossed from the yard behind the house into the enclosure around the ricks. "Some one at Salisbury, Muster Fenwick? Is it any one as I knows?" "One that you did know well, Mr. Brattle. I've seen your sister Carry." Again there came upon the farmer's face that heavy look, which was almost a look of grief; but he did not at once utter a word. "Poor young thing!" continued the Vicar. "Poor, dear, unfortunate girl!" "She brought it on herself, and on all of us," said the farmer. "Yes, indeed, my friend. The light, unguarded folly of a moment has ruined her, and brought dreadful sorrow upon you all. But something should be done for her;--eh?" Still the brother said nothing. "You will help, I'm sure, to rescue her from the infamy into which she must fall if none help her?" "If there's money wanted to get her into any of them places--," begun the farmer. "It isn't that;--it isn't that, at any rate, as yet." "What be it, then?" "The personal countenance and friendship of some friend that loves her. You love your sister, Mr. Brattle?" "I don't know as I does, Muster Fenwick." "You used to, and you must still pity her." "She's been and well-nigh broke the hearts of all on us. There wasn't one of us as wasn't respectable, till she come up;--and now there's Sam. But a boy as is bad ain't never so bad as a girl." It must be understood that in the expression of this opinion Mr. Brattle was alluding, not to the personal wickedness of the wicked of the two sexes, but to the effect of their wickedness on those belonging to them. "And therefore more should be done to help a girl." "I'll stand the money, Muster Fenwick,--if it ain't much."