"Nothing whatever. When does the Vicar return to put an end to these panics?" said Mr Robert, patting Sniff. "I'm sure I don't know," said Mrs Miles, shaking her head. "I do hope he will write and tell us how he gets on with old Mr Tregennas. It makes me quite uncomfortable to think of their being there, when I remember how miserable William's poor aunt was." Mr Mannering looked up quickly, checked himself, and said hesitatingly,-- "He once lived in Yorkshire, I believe?" "Yes, indeed," said Mrs Miles, "Yorkshire was just where he did live. That was before he changed his name. Do you know about him? Do tell us what you know." "He had daughters, I think." "One daughter,--Margaret. But there is quite a sad story about her, for Mr Tregennas disapproved of her marriage, and never forgave her. He must be so terribly unforgiving," concluded Mrs Miles, with a sigh. "I heard," said Mr Mannering, still slowly, "that her father objected to her choice, and that she and her husband went to Australia. But I heard also,--I hope it is so,"--he went on with a little agitation, "that Mrs Harford was a happy woman?" "I don't know, I'm sure. Poor thing, she is dead now, and as for the child, of course it is for Marmaduke's interests that Mr Tregennas should hold out, but still--it does seem hard, doesn't it, Marion?" "Mamma, what is the use of reviving that old story!" said Marion, impatiently. "Mr Tregennas is not likely to change his mind." "No, my dear, no, to be sure not; indeed, one could not wish it. Only it does seem a little hard, for there was nothing against him that we could ever hear, and it was only that she was too fond of him to give him up. Don't you feel sorry for her, Mr Mannering?" "Sorry! Good heavens, madam!" he said, jumping up with a sudden impetuosity which startled Mrs Miles, and made him beg her pardon hastily. "I knew Miss Hare in old days," he explained, "and, as you say, it strikes one as something horrible that her father should never have softened towards her. There is a child, isn't there?" "Yes, a little girl; and how she may be brought up since the poor mother's death, I am sure nobody knows. William's poor aunt did all in her power to make Mr Tregennas think more kindly; but, dear me, she used to say one might as well talk to a stone-wall, and then Mr Harford was nearly as bad, so there was really no bringing them together." "Things can't be forced," Marion put in again. "I dare say Mr Harford is a great deal better off staying out there and keeping his daughter to himself. His position is not half so trying as Marmaduke's, who is the last person considered." "My dear, don't say so. I am sure I have been quite uncomfortable about him, poor boy, ever since he was here, and I do wish he had taken a hamper of vegetables with him. Still, one may be sorry for two people as well as one." "Sixteen--seventeen--the child must be seventeen by this time," said Mr Robert meditatively.