the ralli-cart?"

"Yes," replied Stair gravely. "Notwithstanding diminishing tithes and
increasing taxes, Tommy is still left to us. Apparently he thrives on
a penurious diet, for he is fatter than ever."

Accordingly, half an hour later, the two set out behind the fat pony on
a round of parochial visits. Underneath the seat of the trap reposed
the numerous little packages of tea and tobacco with which the Rector,
whose hand was always in his pocket, rarely omitted to season his
visits to the sick among his parishioners.

"And why not?" he would say, when charged with pampering them by some
starchy member of his congregation who considered that parochial
visitation should be embellished solely by the delivery of appropriate
tracts. "And why not pamper them a bit, poor souls? A pipe of baccy
goes a long way towards taking your thoughts off a bad leg--as I found
out for myself when I was laid up with an attack of the gout my
maternal grandfather bequeathed me."

Whilst the Rector paid his visits, Diana waited outside the various
cottages, driving the pony-trap slowly up and down the road, and
stopping every now and again to exchange a few words with one or
another of the village folk as they passed.

She was frankly delighted to be home again, and was experiencing that
peculiar charm of the Devonshire village which lies in the fact that
you may go away from it for several years and return to find it almost
unchanged. In the wilds of Devon affairs move leisurely, and such
changes as do occur creep in so gradually as to be almost