; she wants--and she will always want--society, flattery, amusement
and excitement. My love for you, Gabriel, makes me anxious to think well
of her, but my fatherly care mistrusts her as a wife for a man of your
nature.'

'But I love her,' faltered Gabriel; 'I wish to marry her.'

'Believe me, you will never marry her, my poor lad.'

Gabriel's face flushed. 'Father, would you forbid--?'

'No,' interrupted Dr Pendle. 'I shall not forbid; but she will decline.
If you tell her about your missionary scheme, I am confident she will
refuse to become your wife. Ask her by all means; keep your word as a
gentleman should; but prepare yourself for a disappointment.'

'Ah, father, you do not know my Bell.'

'It is on that point we disagree, Gabriel. I do know her; you do not.
My experience tells me that your faith is misplaced.'

'We shall see,' said Gabriel, standing up very erect; 'you judge her too
harshly, sir. Bell will become my wife, I am sure of that.'

'If she does,' replied the bishop, giving his hand to the young man, 'I
shall be the first to welcome her.'

'My dear, dear father!' cried Gabriel, with emotion, 'you are like
yourself; always kind, always generous. Thank you, father!' And the
curate, not trusting himself to speak further, lest he should break down
altogether, left the room hurriedly.

With a weary sigh Dr Pendle sank into his seat, and pressed his hand to
his aching head. He was greatly relieved to know that his secret was
safe with Mosk; but his troubles were not yet at an end. It was
imperative that he should reprove and dismiss Cargrim for his duplicity,
and most necessary for the rearrangement of their lives that Mrs Pendle
should be informed of the untimely resurrection of her husband. Also,
foreseeing the termination of Gabriel's unhappy romance, he was
profoundly sorry for the young man, knowing well how disastrous would be
the effect on one so impressionable and highly strung. No wonder the
bishop sighed; no wonder he felt depressed. His troubles had come after
the manner of their kind, 'not in single spies, but in battalions,' and
he needed all his strength of character, all his courage, all his faith
in God, to meet and baffle anxieties so overwhelming. In his affliction
he cried aloud with bitter-mouthed Jeremiah, 'Thou hast removed my soul
far off from peace; I forget prosperity.'

In due time Mrs Pendle reappeared in Beorminster, wonderfully improved
in health and spirits. The astr