"There's been too much rain for the crops," he said at last, with a sudden vigour as if this were the thought he had been maturing all the while. "At this rate everything will be washed up again. I saw Fisher at the turnpike,--you know Fisher?--and he detained me for at least fifteen minutes talking over his grievances. Otherwise I should have met you nearer home." "Fisher talks for a dozen people besides himself. Mr Mannering is his landlord, is he not?" "Ah, yes, yes. Mr Robert is a thoroughly upright man," said Mr Bennett, vaguely. "Never in my life saw any one so pleased as he was when I took him out news of what that poor Stephens had said,--never. Well, I was always certain something would set that matter straight." "You at least acted as if it had never been crooked," Anthony said warmly, at once. "Don't say anything about it," said Mr Bennett, getting red and uncomfortable. "There's another thing I'm afraid is crooked, which-- which I'm ashamed to talk to you about, that's the long and short of it. I never thought I could be driven to fence and shuffle over any business as I've been shuffling now. I'd sooner bite my tongue out than tell it. But there's the thing,--past my altering, and I've the shame of it, if that's any comfort to you." The man was speaking in short sharp sentences, as unlike as possible to his usual genial rather over-familiar manner. Some presentiment seemed to seize Anthony, and his face grew hard. "Well, what is it?" he said in the deep tone he sometimes used. "I wouldn't have had this to tell you for half a years income." "If it has to be told I can't see that any good can be caused by delay." Certainly Anthony's manner was not encouraging. "I only hope you will exonerate me and her aunt," said Mr Bennett, nervously. "Then it's about Ada?" said Anthony, after a moment's pause. "I'm ashamed to say it is." "Well?" "It's anything but well. Though I am her uncle, I do say she has behaved disgracefully. She says she did not know her own mind when she accepted you, and that she has discovered she always cared for Adolphus Warren. His going away, she declares, opened her eyes--" "You should give effects their right causes," said Anthony, in a low bitter voice. "Say the change in his position." "I'm half afraid of it," said Mr Bennett, whipping the old grey in his perturbation. "What can I say? Nothing can be worse. It has cut us both to the heart. I utterly declined at first to tell you, I was so ashamed; but she's had one fit of hysterics after another, until her aunt is quite worn out; and, unpleasant as it was, I felt you ought to be kept in ignorance no longer. I've always thought she was so amenable to what was right, but I'm really afraid nothing will move her." "You need not fear my making the attempt," said Anthony, still in the same tone.