The Vicar of Bullhampton

h, and walked with the two ladies from the porch to their garden gate, but he declined Mrs. Fenwick's invitation to lunch, and was not seen again on that day.

s Hinton, or Hinton Saint Paul's as it should be properly called, was a long straggling village, six miles from Bullhampton, and half-way on the road to Market Lavington, to which latter place Sam ha

gentlemen in that cart must have wanted him, I take it." Then he thought that it might, perha

ded Mary as being almost an impostor. She had taken him in and obtained his confidence under false pretences. It was true that she might still come and fill the place that he had appointed for her. He rather thought that at last she would do so. But he was angry with her because she hesitated. She was creating an unnecessary disturbance among them. She had, he thought, been now wooed long enough, and, as he told his wife more than once, was making an as

gh she was quite sure that were Mr. Gilmore to repeat his offer to her that moment, she would not accept it, nevertheless she thought ill of herself because she would not do so. "I do believe," she said to herself, "that I shall never like any man better." She knew well enough that if she was never brought to love any man, she never ought to marry any man; but she was not quite sure whether Janet was not right in telling her that she had formed erroneous notions of the sort of love she ought to feel for the man whom she should resolve to accept. P

g out on the lawn, on that Tuesday afternoon

say tha

re, but the visit, on the whole, has been unfortunate

e! How are yo

ink so much of him, and believe him to be so good, and so wise, and so understanding,-he knows what

most worthy man, who is his friend, and who, by marrying you, w

his voice, and see it in his eye. I can tell it from the way he shakes hands with me in the morning. He is such a true ma

re, and all his displ

hat, as I had repented, I might be taken back to his grace;

t tell the truth. I don't t

n't, is that

ow her own mind. You are giving this poor fel

so far as to tell him th

ry, you have always told hi

All the same I don't mean to defend myself. I do believe that I have been wrong, and I wish that I had never come here. It

them all! She was thoroughly dissatisfied with herself; especially so because she had fallen into those very difficulties which from early years she had resolved that she would avoid. She had made up her mind that she would not flirt, that she would never give a right to any man-or to any woman-to call her a coquette; that if love and a husband came in her way she would take them thankfully, and that if they did not, she would go on her path quietly, if possible, feeling no uneasiness, and certainly showing none, because the joys of a married life did not belong to her. But now she had gotten herself into a mess, and she could not tell herself that it was not her own fault. Then she resolved again that in future she would go right. It could not but be that a woman could keep herself from floundering in these messes of half-courtship,-of courtship on one side,

n with young ladies who could not go straight through with their love affairs, from the beginning to the end, without flirtation of either an inward or an outward nature. Of all her heroines, Rosalind was the one she liked the best, because from the first moment of her passion she knew herself and what she was about, and loved her lover right heartily. Of all girls in prose or poetry she declared that Rosalind was the least of a flirt. She meant to have th

got over the stile

azing in so intently among

sudden decision. "Mr. Fenwick," she said, "would you mind walking up and down the churchyard with me once or twice? I have something to say to you, and I can s

ive you. There is my hand upon it. All evil thoughts against you shall go ou

nest. I declare I think Janet the h

r this kind of thing when I allo

t, however, but to acknowledge that I hav

iss, it shall not be looked on again as amis

wait? Why should he wait? Of course he should not wait. When I am gone, tell him so, and beg him to

ed half the length of the path in silence. "No, Mary

t, Mr.

good, or for mine, or for Janet'

ll, for the go

be my wife's dearest friend, and my own nearest neighbour. There is no man in the world whom I love as I do Harry Gilmore, and I want you to be his wife. I have said to myself and to Janet a score of times that

om the lips of Frank Fenwick. It amounted to this; that even he, Frank Fenwick, bade her wait and try. But she had formed her resolu

too good, and too fit for the place to which he aspires, to miss his object. Come, we'll go in. Mind, you and I are one again, let it go how it may. I will own that I

e so, Mr.

eeping you apart, I decline the commission. It is my assured belief that sooner or later he will be your hus

up her mind in that direction. It would not, perhaps, be very maidenly, but anything would be better than suspense,-than torment to him. Then she took out her blue ribbons, and tried to go through that cer

ll be civility-almost flattering civility-from host to guest, and from guest to host; and yet how often does it occur that in the midst of these courtesies there is something that tells of hatred, of ridicule, or of scorn! How often does it happen that the guest knows that he is disliked, or the host knows that he is a bore!

tion to Mary Lowther, but no indifferent person would have thought that he was her lover. He talked chiefly to Fenwick, and when th

nk I've been doi

wheat down,

r like to be quite the earliest

oo early than a da

hat. I've been down

e you been do

ed, and yet I f

ing every turn of his face from the corner of her eye. "I've just been a

Mary," said Mrs. Fen

Gilmore would only do such a th

he. "I'm not quite sure whether it is or not.

oney is not everythin

es for other people to live in, one

o her husband that Mary Lowther had certainly declared that it was the prettiest spot in the parish, but that, as far as her knowledge went, nobody

now, I fear,"

boys into trade who died afterwards, and then for years he had either doctors or u

did he

ght settle it all with his wife. It's going to be done, however. I shall have the estimate next week,

is two or three hundred pounds. But he said not a word to Mary, just pressed her hand at parting,

," said Mrs. Fenwick, "and remember how anxiously I am waiting for my Sunday dinners." Mary said not a word, but as she was driven rou

her at Westbury; "you are to remember that, whatever happens, there is always a home for you at Bu

good you a

each other. God bless you, dear." From thence she ma