Paul Faber, Surgeon
perfection but that the sight of her supercilious, unbelieving face, was a reviving cordial to the old Adam, whom he was so anxious to poison with love and prayer. Church over, the rector wa
them had quite disappeared, Mrs. Ramshorn, to the indignant consternation of Mrs. Bevis, who w
o you say to y
the whole parish by t
ou so, Mr
ow that therefore he i
to send peace on
s a beneficed clergyman
stently regarded any pr
t, thence natural
g back into an old college-habit, "I fear he is in the right; and if
t man turn every thing topsy-turvy, and the
congregation in it b
venticle now, and what it will come to,
here I am. The fellow has knocked the wind out of me with his personali
was already laid, and the decanters stood on the sideboard. The rector pou
lpit, he must even talk about his wife! What's he or his wife in the house of God? When his gown is on, a clergyman is neither Mr. This nor Mr. That any longer, but a priest of the Church of E
ut buying friends with
ural to a fellow who could preach a s
a man turn his back on a girl beca
he greater!-when I think of it now, I can scarcely believe I really heard it!-to offer to show his books to every
the books, Mrs. Ramshorn. You
e's played his game wel
beginning to get disgusted with the
fter his curate's sermon he was not at all sure he did not-he worshiped him in a very moderate and gentlemanly fashion. Every body liked the rector, and two or three loved him a little. If it would be a stretch of the truth to call a man a Christ
lass of sherry, and seated himself in the great easy chair formerly approved of the dean, long promoted. But what are eas
ltogether new both to himself and his companions. Mrs. Bevis, however, talked away in a soft, continuous murmur. She was a good-natured, gentle soul, without whose sort the world would be harder for many. She did not contribute much to its positive enjoyment, but for my part, I can not help being grateful even to a cat that will condesce
corn, he threw his arm over the back of his favorite, and stood, leaning against her for minutes, half dreaming, half thinking. As long as they were busy, their munching and grinding soothed him-held him at least in quiescent mood; the moment it ceased, he seemed to himself to wake up
nn, where, if you arrive after supper, you will most likely have to starve till next morning. Her servants, in fact, were her masters, and she dared not go into her own kitchen for a jug of hot water. Possibly it was her dethronement in her own house that made her, with a futile clutching after lost respect, so anxious to rule in the abbey church. As it was, although John Bevis and she had known