Crawley—when the matter before him was cold roast-beef and hot potatoes, instead of the relative position of a parish priest and his parishioner—became humble, submissive, and almost timid. Lady Lufton recommended Madeira instead of Sherry, and Mr. Crawley obeyed at once, and was, indeed, perfectly unconscious of the difference. Then there was a basket of sea-kale in the gig for Mrs. Crawley; that he would have left behind had he dared, but he did not dare. Not a word was said to him as to the marmalade for the children which was hidden under the sea-kale, Lady Lufton feeling well aware that that would find its way to its proper destination without any necessity for his co-operation. And then Mr. Crawley returned home in the Framley Court gig.
Three or four days after this he walked over to Framley Parsonage. This he did on a Saturday, having learned that the hounds never hunted on that day; and he started early, so that he might be sure to catch Mr. Robarts before he went out on his parish business. He was quite early enough to attain this object, for when he reached the Parsonage door at about half past nine, the vicar, with his wife and sister, were just sitting down to breakfast.
"Oh, Crawley," said Robarts, before the other had well spoken, "you are a capital fellow;" and then he got him into a chair, and Mrs. Robarts had poured him out tea, and Lucy had surrendered to him a knife and plate, before he knew under what guise to excuse his coming among them.
"I hope you will excuse this intrusion," at last he muttered; "but I have a few words of business to which I will request your attention presently."
"Certainly," said Robarts, conveying a broiled kidney on to the plate before Mr. Crawley; "but there is no preparation for business like a good breakfast. Lucy, hand Mr. Crawley the buttered toast. Eggs, Fanny—where are the eggs?" And then John, in livery, brought in the fresh eggs. "Now we shall do. I always eat my eggs while they're hot, Crawley, and I advise you to do the same."
To all this Mr. Crawley said very little, and he was not at all at home under the circumstances. Perhaps a thought did pass across his brain as to the difference between the meal which he had left on his own table and that which he now saw before him, and as to any cause which might exist for such difference. But, if so, it was a very fleeting
