Chapter 20 THE VICARAGE-KEZIAH-THE DEAR BOYS-THE COOK-A YORKSHIRE TEA-BED-FELLOWS.

It was Midsummer. The heavy foliage brushed our faces as "the old mare," with slack reins upon her back, drew us soberly up the steep drive, and stood still, of her own accord, before a substantial-looking house, built-"like everything else," I thought-of stone. Huge rose-bushes-literal bushes, not "dwarfs" or "standards"-the growth of many years,