good unworldly woman—may really help a man, and keep him more independent. There’s a parishioner of mine—a fine fellow, but who would hardly have pulled through as he has done without his wife. Do you know the Garths? I think they were not Peacock’s patients.”
“No; but there is a Miss Garth at old Featherstone’s, at Lowick.”
“Their daughter: an excellent girl.”
“She is very quiet—I have hardly noticed her.”
“She has taken notice of you, though, depend upon it.”
“I don’t understand,” said Lydgate; he could hardly say “Of course.”
“Oh, she gauges everybody. I prepared her for confirmation—she is a favorite of mine.”
Mr. Farebrother puffed a few moments in silence, Lydgate not caring to know more about the Garths. At last the Vicar laid down his pipe, stretched out his legs, and turned his bright eyes with a smile towards Lydgate, saying—