He himself had backed the wood, and Botsey had been
strong in his opinion against the wood. Which of them had been
practically right? Had not the presence of the poisoned fox shown
that he was right? "I think you ought to pay," said Larry.
"All right," said Botsey riding on, and telling himself that that
was what came from making a bet with a man who was not a gentleman.
"He's as unhappy about that hat," said Runciman, "as though beer
had gone down a penny a gallon."
CHAPTER XII
Arabella Trefoil
On the Sunday the party from Bragton went to the parish church,--
and found it very cold. The duty was done by a young curate who
lived in Dillsborough, there being no house in Bragton for him. The
rector himself had not been in the church for the last six months,
being an invalid. At present he and his wife were away in London,
but the vicarage was kept up for his use. The service was certainly
not alluring. It was a very wet morning and the curate had ridden
over from Dillsborough on a little pony which the rector kept for
him in addition to the 100 pounds per annum paid for his services.
That he should have got over his service quickly was not a matter
of surprise,--nor was it wonderful that there should have been no
soul-stirring matter in his discourse as he had two sermons to
preach every week and to perform single-handed all the other
clerical duties of a parish lying four miles distant from his
lodgings.
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