‘Conceited!’ thought Freda.  ’I suppose he thinks if he had tried he would have got one.’

‘Were you not at Baliol?’ asked Mr Gwynne.

’Yes; I went there because my aunt had a fancy for the college, her father having been, there, otherwise I should have gone to Jesus College and tried for a Welsh fellowship, which is more easily obtained, because there are few competitors.’

‘Did you know anything of Mr Neville, Sir Thomas Neville’s son?’ asked Miss Hall.

’Yes; I was introduced to him through some friends of my aunt’s, and we became very intimate.  He was very kind to me.’

‘Is he clever?’

’Very.  I think he has very fine talents, and is likely to shine at the bar if he continues in his resolution to go to it.  I have just had an invitation to spend a few days with him, but do not think I shall have time before I go to be ordained.’

‘Has your aunt settled the curacy?’ asked Freda, with a wicked laugh in the corner of her eye.

‘I think and hope so,’ replied Rowland, answering the visible smile by a blush; ‘she has done her utmost to obtain it for me.’

’Ah! she was well connected, and has some interest, and a—­a great deal of energy, and all that sort of thing; I should think she was a clever, or I mean a—­an enterprising woman.’

Mr Gwynne hesitated as he said this, not admiring the lady in question, yet thinking it incumbent upon him to pay her a compliment.  His daughter glanced inquiringly at Rowland, as if wondering what he could say to so dubious a speech.  He appeared equally at a loss, and, as he turned from Mr Gwynne for a moment, caught Miss Gwynne’s mirthful eye.  He could not help smiling, but said with much spirit,—­

’My aunt has been very good to me, Mr Gwynne, and I owe her a heavy debt of gratitude for giving me at least the opportunity of getting on in the world.’

‘Well, I like him for that,’ thought Freda; ’and are you going to London?’ she asked aloud, with a degree of interest.

‘I am to be ordained by the Bishop of London to a city curacy,’ was the reply.

‘Will you allow me to take wine with you and wish you success, sir?’ said Mr Gwynne.  ’Who knows but we may see you Bishop of London some day?  Miss Hall, Freda, will you join us?’

Mr Gwynne became quite animated.  He felt proud that the son of his most respectable tenant should be going to take a London curacy.

Freda bent rather less stiffly than usual to Mr Rowland Prothero.  She was annoyed with herself for feeling more inclined to be friendly with him since she had heard that he was intimate with young Neville, and was to be ordained by the Bishop of London.

There was more conversation, which it is unnecessary to repeat; but in due course of time the ladies retired to the drawing-room, where they found Miss Nugent awaiting them.

‘Whose beaux yeux do you think we have in the dining-room?’ asked Freda.