"Nobody can well mistake him," returned Mrs. Ramshorn. "Everybody
knows the creature."

"Few people know him really," said Wingfold.

"I HAVE heard that he is an oddity in mind as well as in body," said
Mrs. Ramshorn.

"He is a friend of mine," rejoined the curate. "I will go and meet
him. He wants to know how Leopold is."

"Pray keep your seat, Mr. Wingfold. I don't in the least mind him,"
said Mrs. Ramshorn. "Any FRIEND of yours, as you are kind enough to
call him, will be welcome. Clergymen come to know--indeed it is
their duty to be acquainted with all sorts of people. The late dean
of Halystone would stop and speak to a pauper."

The curate did however go and meet Polwarth, and returning with him
presented him to Mrs. Ramshorn, who received him with perfect
condescension, and a most gracious bow. Helen bent her head also,
very differently, but it would be hard to say how. The little man
turned from them, and for a moment stood looking on the face of the
sleeping youth: he had not seen him since Helen ordered him to leave
the house. Even now she looked angry at his presumption in staring
at her brother. But Polwarth did not see her look. A great
tenderness came over his face, and his lips moved softly. "The Lord
of thy life keep it for thee, my son!" he murmured, gazed a moment
longer, then rejoined Wingfold.

They walked aside a few paces.