“Thank you, then let us begin at once.”  He took out his watch.  “I have an hour and a half to spare, then I must gallop back to Oxford.  Miss Merton, I should like to make acquaintance with some of the people.  Suppose we go to the school, and see what the children are learning, and then visit one or two families in the village, so I shall catch a glimpse of the three generations I have to deal with.  My name is Francis Eden.  You are going to get your bonnet?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.”

They passed out through the garden.  Mr. Eden stopped to look at the flowers.  Susan colored.

“It has been rather neglected of late,” said she apologetically.

“It must have been very well taken care of before, then,” said he, “for it looks charming now.  Ah!  I love flowers dearly!” and he gave a little sigh.

They reached the school, and Mr. Eden sat down and examined the little boys and girls.  When he sat down Susan winced.  How angry he will be at their ignorance! thought Susan.  But Mr. Eden, instead of putting on an awful look, and impressing on the children that a being of another generation was about to attack them, made himself young to meet their minds.  A pleasant smile disarmed their fears.  He spoke to them in very simple words and childish idioms, and told them a pretty story, which interested them mightily.  Having set their minds really working, he put questions arising fairly out of his story, and so fathomed the moral sense and the intelligence of more than one.  In short, he drew the brats out instead of crushing them in.  Susan stood by, at first startled at the line he took, then observant, then approving.  Presently he turned to her.

“And which is your class, Miss Merton?”

Susan colored.

“I take these little girls when I come, sir.

“Miss Merton has not been here this fortnight,” said a pert teacher.

Susan could have beat her.  What will this good man think of me now? thought poor Susan.  To her grateful relief, the good man took no notice of the observation; he looked at his watch.

“Now, Miss Merton, if I am not giving you too much trouble,” and they left the school.

“You wish to see some of the folk in the village, sir?”

“Yes.”

“Where shall I take you first, sir?”

“Where I ought to go first.”

Susan looked puzzled.

Mr. Eden stopped dead short.

“Come, guess,” said he, with a radiant smile, “and don’t look so scared.  I’ll forgive you if you guess wrong.”

Susan looked this way and that, encouraged by his merry smile.  She let out—­scarce above a whisper, and in a tone of interrogation, as who should say this is not to be my last chance since I have only asked a question not risked an answer—­

“To the poorest, Mr. Eden?”

“Brava! she has guessed it,” cried the Reverend Frank triumphantly; for he had been more anxious she should answer right than she had herself.  “Young lady, I have friends with their heads full of Latin and Greek who could not have answered that so quickly as you; one proof more how goodness brightens intelligence,” added he in soliloquy.  “Here’s a cottage.”