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"I know she respects and likes you better than any one, and speaks of you like no one else," said Phœbe; then pausing, and speaking more diffidently, though with a smile, "I think she looks up to you so much, that she is afraid to put herself in your power, for fear she should be made to give up her odd ways in spite of herself, and yet that she has no notion of losing you. Did you see her face at the station ?"

"I would not! I could not meet her eyes! I snatched my hand from the little clinging fingers; " and Robert's voice almost became a gasp. "It was not fit that the spell should be renewed. She would be miserable, I under constant temptation, if I endeavored to make her share my work! Best as it is! She has so cast me off that my honor is no longer bound to her; but I cannot tell whether it be due to her to let her know how it is with me, or whether it would be mere coxcombry." "The Sunday that she spent here," said Phoebe, slowly," she had a talk with me. I wrote it down. Miss Fennimore says it is the safest way-”

"Where is it?" cried Robert.

"I kept it in my pocket-book, for fear any one should see it, and it should do harm. Here it is, if it will help you. I am afraid I made things worse, but I did not know what to say."

It was one of the boldest experiments ever made by a sister; for what man could brook the sight of an unvarnished statement of his proxy's pleading, or help imputing the failure to the go-between?

"I would not have had this happen for a thousand pounds!" was his acknowledgment. "Child as you are, Phoebe, had you not sense to know, that no woman could endure to have that said, which should scarcely be implied? I wonder no longer at her studied avoidance." "If it be all my bad management, cannot it be set right?" humbly and hopefully said Phoebe.

"There is no right!" he said. "There, take it back. It settles the question. The security you childishly showed, was treated as offensive presumption on my part. It would be presuming yet further to make a formal withdrawal of what was never accepted."

"Then is it my doing? Have I made mischief between you, and put you apart?" said poor Phoebe, in great distress. "Can't I make up for it?"

"You? No, you were only an over plainspoken child, and brought about the crisis, that must have come somehow. It is not what you have done, or not done; it is what Lucy Sandbrook has said and done, that shows that I must have done with her forever."

"And yet," said Phoebe, taking this as forgiveness, "you see she never believed that you would give her up. If she did, I am sure she would not have gone."

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"She thinks her power over me stronger than my principles. She challenges me desires you to tell me so. We shall see.” He spoke as a man whose steadfastness had been defied, and who was piqued on proving it to the utmost. Such feelings may savor of the wrath of man; they may need the purifying of chastening, and they often impel far beyond the bounds of sober judgment; but no doubt they likewise frequently render that easy which would otherwise have appeared impossible, and which, if done in haste, may be regretted, but not repented, at leisure.

Under some circumstances, the harshness of youth is a healthy symptom, proving force of character and conviction, though that is only when the foremost victim is self. Robert was far from perfect, and it might be doubted whether he were entering the right track in the right way, but at least his heart was found, and there was a fair hope that his failings in working their punishment, might work their cure.

It was a thorough brotherly and Christian spirit that before entering the house, he compelled himself to say, "Don't vex yourself, Phœbe, I know you did the best you could, as kindly as you could. It made no real difference, and it was best that she should know the truth."

"Thank you, dear Robin," cried Phoebe, grateful for the consolation; "I am glad you do not think I misrepresented."

"You are always accurate," he answered. "If you did any thing undesirable, it was representing at all. But that is nothing to the purpose. It is all over now, and thank you for your constant good-will and patience, my dear. There! now then it is an understood thing that her name is never spoken between us."

Meanwhile, Robert's proposal was under discussion by the elders. Mr. Parsons had

no abstract dread of a wealthy curate, but he hesitated to accept gratuitous services, and distrusted plans formed under the impulse of disappointment or of enthusiasm, since, in the event of a change, both parties might be embarrassed. There was danger, too, of collisions with his family, and Mr. Parsons took counsel with Miss Charlecote, knowing indeed that where her affections were concerned, her opinions must be taken with a qualification, but relying on the good sense formed by rectitude of purpose.

himself, and averted a reply, by speaking of Robert as accepted.

Robert's next request was to be made useful in the parish, while preparing for his ordination in the autumn ember week, and though there were demurs as to unnecessarily anticipating the strain on health and strength, he obtained his wish in mercy to a state only to be alleviated by the realities of labor.

So few difficulties were started by his family, that Honora suspected that Mr. Fulmort, always chiefly occupied by what was immediately before him, hardly realized that by taking an assistant curacy at St. Wulstan's, his son became one of the pastors of Whittington streets, great and little, Richard Courts, Cicely Row, Alice Lane, Cat Alley, and Turnagain Corner. Scarcely, however, was this settled, when a despatch arrived from Dublin, headed, "The Fast Fly Fishers; or, the modern St. Kevin," containing in Ingoldsby legend-like rhymes, the entire narration of the Glendalough predicament of the "Fast and Fair," and concluding with a piece of prose, by the same author, assuring his sweet Honey, that the poem though strange, was true, that he had just seen the angelic anglers on board the steamer, and it would not be for lack of good advice on his

Honor's affection for Robert Fulmort had always been moderated by Owen's antagonism, her moderation in superlatives commanded explicit credence, and Mr. Parsons inferred more, instead of less, than she expressed; better able as he was to estimate that manly character, gaining force with growth, and though slow to discern between good and evil, always firm to the duty when it was once perceived, and thus rising with the elevation of the standard. The undemonstrative temper, and tardiness in adopting extra habits of religious observance and profession, which had disappointed Honor, struck the clergyman as evidences both of sincerity and evenness of development, proving the sterling reality of what had been attained. "Not taking, but trusty," judged the part, if Lucy did not present herself at Woolvicar.

But the lad was an angry lover. How tantalizing to be offered a fourth curate, with a long purse, only to find St. Wulstan's serving as an outlet for a lover's quarrel, and the youth restless and restive ere the end of his diaconate!

"How savage you are," said his wife, "as if the parish would be hurt by his help or his presence. If he goes-let him go-some other help will come."

"And don't deprive him of the advantage of a good master," said Honor.

"This wretched cure is not worth flattery," he said, smiling.

"Nay," said Mrs. Parsons, "how often have I heard you rejoice that you started here."

"Under Mr. Charlecote, yes."

"You are the depository of his traditions," said Honor," hand them on to Robert. I wish nothing better for Owen."

Mr. Parsons wished something better for

THIRD SERIES. LIVING AGE.

506.

stone Lane, to partake of the dish called humble pie, on the derivation whereof antiquaries were divided.

Half amused, half vexed by his levity, and wholly relieved and hopeful, Honora could not help showing Owen's performance to Phoebe for the sake of its cleverness, but she found the child too young and simple to enter into it, for the whole effect was an entreaty that Robert might not see it, only hear the facts.

Rather annoyed by this want of appreciation of Owen's wit, Honora saw, nevertheless, that Phoebe had come to a right conclusion. The breach was not likely to be diminished by finding that the wilful girl had exposed herself to ridicule, and the Fulmort nature had so little sense of the ludicrous, that this good-natured brotherly satire would be taken for mere derision.

So Honor left it to Phoebe to give her own version, only wishing that the catastrophe had come to his knowledge before his ar

rangements had been made with Mr. Par- mort were to be married in England or

sons.

Phoebe had some difficulty in telling her story. Robert at first silenced her peremptorily, but after ten minutes relented, and said, moodily, "Well, let me hear!" He listened without relaxing a muscle of his rigid countenance, and when Phoebe ended by saying that Miss Charlecote had ordered Lucy's room to be prepared, thinking that she might present herself at any moment, he said, "Take care that you warn me when she comes. I shall go home that minute." "Robert, Robert, if she come home grieved and knowing better—”

"I

"I will not see her!" he repeated. made her taking this journey the test! The result is nothing to me! Phoebe, I trust to you that no intended good nature of Miss Charlecote's should bring us together. Promise me."

Phoebe could do nothing but promise, and not another sentence could she obtain from her brother; indeed his face looked so formidable in its sternness, that she would have been a bold maiden to have tried.

Honora augured truly, that not only was his stern nature deeply offended, but that he was quite as much in dread of coming under the power of Lucy's fascinations, as Cilla had ever been of his strength. Such mutual aversion was really a token of the force of influence upon each, and Honor assured Phoebe that all would come right.

"Let her only come home and be good, and you will see, Phoebe! She will not be the worse for an alarm, nor even for waiting till after his two years at St. Wulstan's."

The reception of the travellers at Castle Blanch was certainly not mortifying by creating any excitement. Charles Charters said his worst in the words, "One week!" and his wife was glad to have some one to write her

notes.

abroad; and as to Miss Murrell, Lolly languidly wondered what it was that she had heard.

Hungering for some one whom she could trust, Lucilla took an early breakfast in her own room, and walked to Wrapworth, hoping to catch the curate lingering over his coffee and letters. From a distance, however, she espied his form disappearing in the schoolporch, and approaching, heard his voice reading prayers, and the children's chanted response. Coming to the oriel, she looked in. There were the rows of shiny heads, fair, brown, and black; there were the long sable back and chopped-hay locks of the curate-but where a queenlike figure had of old been wont to bend, she beheld a tallow face, with sandy hair under the most precise of net caps, and a straight thread paper shape in scanty gray stuff, and white apron.

Dizzy with wrathful consternation, Cilla threw herself on one of the seats of the porch, shaking her foot, and biting her lip, frantic to know the truth, yet too much incensed to enter, even when the hum of united voices ceased, the rushing sound of rising was over, and measured footsteps pattered to the classes, where the manly interrogations sounded alternately with the shrill little answers.

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Clump, clump, came the heavy feet of a laggard, her head bent over her book, her thick lips vainly conning the unlearned task, unaware of the presence of the young lady, till Lucilla touched her, saying, What, Martha, a ten o'clock scholar?" She gave a little cry, opened her staring eyes, and dropped a curtesy. "Whom have you hear for mistress? asked Lucilla.

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"Please, ma'am, governess is runned

away."

"What do you mean?"

"Yes, ma'am," replied the girl, developing powers of volubility such as scholastic relations with her had left unsuspected.

This indifference fretted Lucy. She found herself loathing the perfumy rooms, the sleepy voice, and hardly able to sit still in her restless impatience of Lolly's platitudes and She ran away last Saturday was a week, of Charles' insouciance, while Rashe could and there was nobody to open the school never be liked again. Even a lecture from when we came to it a Sunday morning, and Honor Charlecote would have been infinitely we had holidays all last weck, ma'am, and preferable, and one grim look of Robert's mother was terrified out of her life, and would be bliss! father, he said he wouldn't have me never No one knew whether Miss Charlecote go for to do no such thing; and that he were still in town, nor whether Augusta Ful

*Terrify, to tease or worry.

didn't want no fine ladies, as was always wife. With heartfelt thanks for all the kindspiting of me." ness I have received, I remain, "Reverend sir,

"Every one will seem to spite you, if you keep no better hours," said Lucy, little edified by Martha's virtuous indignation.

The girl had scarcely entered the school before the clergyman stood on the threshold, and was seized by both hands, with the words, "O Mr. Prendergast! what is this?" "You here, Cilla? What's the matter? What has brought you back?"

"Had you not heard? A sprain of Ratia's, and other things. Never mind. What's all this?"

you

"Ah! I knew you would be sadly grieved!" "So did frighten her away!" "I never meant it. I tried to act for the best. She was spoken to, by myself and others, but nobody could make any impres sion, and we could only give her notice to go at the harvest holidays. She took it with her usual grand air-"

"Which is really misery and despair. Oh, why did I go? Go on!"

"Your obedient servant,
"EDNA."

"Not one message to me," exclaimed Lucilla.

"Her not having had the impudence is the only redeeming thing!"

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"I did not think she would have left no word for me," said Lucy, who knew she had been kinder than her wont, and was really wounded. "Happy wife? Who can it be?" 'Happy wife!" repeated the curate. "It is miserable fool, most likely, by this time." "No surname signed! What's the postmark? Only Charing Cross. Could you find out nothing, or did you not think it worth while to look ? "

"What do you take me for, Cilla? I inquired at the station, but she had not been there, and on the Monday I went to London, and saw the mother, who was in great distress, for she had had a letter much like mine, only more unsatisfactory, throwing out absurd hints about grandeur and prosperity

"She distinctly says she is married.”

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"I wrote to the mother, advising her, if possible, to come and be with the girl till-poor deluded simpleton!" the holidays. That was on Thursday week, and the old woman promised to come on the Monday-wrote a very proper letter, allowing for the methodistical phrases-but on the Saturday, it was observed that the house was not opened, and on Sunday morning I got a note-if you'll come in i'll show it to you."

He presently discovered it among multitudinous other papers on his chimney-piece. Within a ladylike envelope was a thick, satin-paper, queen's-sized note, containing these words:

"REVEREND SIR-It is with the deepest feelings of regret for the unsatisfactory appearance of my late conduct that I venture to address you, but time will enable me to account for all, and I can at the present moment only entreat you to pardon any inconvenience I may have occasioned by the precipitancy of my departure. Credit me, reverend and dear sir, it was only the law of necessity that could have compelled me to act in a manner that may appear questionable. Your feeling heart will excuse my reserve when you are informed of the whole. In the mean time, I am only permitted to mention that this morning I became a happy

Yes, but she gives no name nor place. What's that worth? After such duplicity as she has been practising so long, I don't know how to take her statement. Those people are pleased to talk of a marriage in the sight of heaven, when they mean the devil's own work!"

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No, no! I will not think it!"

"Then don't, my dear. You were very young and innocent, and thought no harm."

"I'm not young-I'm not innocent!" furiously said Cilly. "Tell me downright all you suspect."

"I'm not given to suspecting," said the poor clergyman, half in deprecation, half in If she had married a servant, or any one in reproof, but I am afraid it is a bad business. her own rank, there would have been no need of concealing the name, at least from her mother. I feared at first that it was one of your cousin Charles' friends, but there seems more reason to suppose that one of the musical people at your concert at the castle may have thought her voice a good speculation for the stage."

"He would marry her to secure her gains."

"If so, why the secrecy?"

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"Mrs. Jenkins has taught you to make it as bad as possible," burst out Lucy. 'Oh, why was not I at home? Is it too late to trace her, and proclaim her innocence ? "

"I was wishing for your help. I went to Mr. Charteris to ask who theperformers were, but he knew nothing about them, and said you and his sister had managed it all."

"The director was Derval. He is fairly respectable, at least I know nothing to the contrary. I'll make Charlie write. There was an Italian with a black beard and a bass voice, whom we have had several times. I saw him looking at her. Just tell me what sort of woman is the mother. She lets lodgings; does not she?"

"Yes, in Little Whittington Street." "Dear me! I trust she is no friend of Honor Charlecote's."

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"Out of her beat, I should think. She direction, and we hunted down the cashier dissents."

"What a blessing! I beg your pardon, but if any thing could be an aggravation, it would be Honor Charlecote's moralitics."

and the friend, but they were quite exonerated. It only proves that her voice has an unfortunate value."

"If she be gone off with the Italian bass, I can't say think it a fatal sign that she was slow to present him to her domestic Mause Headrigg, who no doubt would deliberately prefer the boards of her coffin to the boards of the theatre. Well, come along we will get a letter from Charles, and rescue her-I mean clear her."

"So you were not aware of the dissent!" "And you are going to set that down as more deceit, as if it were the poor thing's business to denounce her mother. Now, to show you that I can be sure that Edna was brought up to the Church, I will tell you her antecedents. Her father was Sir Thomas Deane's butler; they lived in the village, and "Wont you look into school, and see how she was very much in the nursery with the we go on? The women complained so bitterMiss Deanes-had some lessons from the ly of having their children on their hands, governess. There was some notion of mak-though I am sure they had sent them to school ing her a nursery governess, but Sir Thomas seldom enough of late, that I got this young died, the ladies went abroad, taking her woman from Mrs. Stuart's asylum till the father with them, Edna was sent to a training | holidays. I think we shall let her stay on, school, and the mother went to live in the city with a relation who let lodgings, and who has since died, leaving the concern to Mrs. Murrell, whose husband was killed by an upset of the carriage on the Alps."

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she has a good deal of method, and all seem pleased with the change."

"You have your wish of a fright. No, I thank you! I'm not so glad as the rest of you to get rid of refinement and superiority."

There was no answer, and more touched by silence than reply, she hastily said,

Never mind! I dare say she may do better for the chidren; but you know I, who am hard of caring for any one, did care for poor Edna, and I can't stand pans over your

"I heard all that, and plenty besides! Poor woman! she was in such distress that one could not but let her pour it all out; but I declare the din rang in my ears the whole night after! A very nice, respectable-looking body she was, with jet-black eyes like diamonds, and a rosy, countrified complex-new broom." ion, quite a treat to see in that grimy place, her widow's cap as white as snow, but, oh, such a tongue! She would give me all her spiritual experiences-how she was converted

Mr. Prendergast gave a smile such as was only evoked by his late rector's little daughter, and answered, "No one can be more concerned than I. She was not in her place

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