Maybe about a year,or a year and half:tisnt two years;for they dont scandalize him yet;and,as a rule,a parish begins to scandalize the pason at the end of two years among em familiar.
But hes a very nice party.Ay,Pason Swancourt knows me pretty well from often driving over;and I know Pason Swancourt.
They emerged from the bower,swept round in a curve,and the chimneys and gables of the vicarage became darkly visible.Not a light showed anywhere.They alighted;the man felt his way into the porch,and rang the bell.
At the end of three or four minutes,spent in patient waiting without hearing any sounds of a response,the stranger advanced and repeated the call in a more decided manner.He then fancied he heard footsteps in the hall,and sundry movements of the door-knob,but nobody appeared.
Perhaps they beant at home,sighed the driver.And I promised myself a bit of supper in Pason Swancourts kitchen.Sich lovely mate-pize and figged keakes,and cider,and drops ocordial that they do keep here!
All right,naibours!Be ye rich men or be ye poor men,that ye must needs come to the worlds end at this time onight?exclaimed a voice at this instant;and,turning their heads,they saw a rickety individual shambling round from the back door with a horn lantern dangling from his hand.
Time onight,a blieve!and the clock only gone seven of em.
Show a light,and let us in,William Worm.
Oh,that you,Robert Lickpan?
Nobody else,William Worm.
And is the visiting man a-come?
Yes,said the stranger.Is Mr.Swancourt at home?
That a is,sir.And would ye mind coming round by the back way?
The front door is got stuck withe wet,as he will do sometimes;
and the Turk cant open en.I know I am only a poor wambling man that ill never pay the Lord for my ******,sir;but I can show the way in,sir.
The new arrival followed his guide through a little door in a wall,and then promenaded a scullery and a kitchen,along which he passed with eyes rigidly fixed in advance,an inbred horror of prying forbidding him to gaze around apartments that formed the back side of the household tapestry.Entering the hall,he was about to be shown to his room,when from the inner lobby of the front entrance,whither she had gone to learn the cause of the delay,sailed forth the form of Elfride.Her start of amazement at the sight of the visitor coming forth from under the stairs proved that she had not been expecting this surprising flank movement,which had been originated entirely by the ingenuity of William Worm.
She appeared in the prettiest of all feminine guises,that is to say,in demi-toilette,with plenty of loose curly hair tumbling down about her shoulders.An expression of uneasiness pervaded her countenance;and altogether she scarcely appeared woman enough for the situation.The visitor removed his hat,and the first words were spoken;Elfride prelusively looking with a deal of interest,not unmixed with surprise,at the person towards whom she was to do the duties of hospitality.
I am Mr.Smith,said the stranger in a musical voice.
I am Miss Swancourt,said Elfride.
Her constraint was over.The great contrast between the reality she beheld before her,and the dark,taciturn,sharp,elderly man of business who had lurked in her imagination--a man with clothes smelling of city smoke,skin sallow from want of sun,and talk flavoured with epigram--was such a relief to her that Elfride smiled,almost laughed,in the new-comers face.
