me here yesterday about those candles, and
threatened to write to the Bishop and denounce us as Popish
conspirators. Couldn't you go and talk to her, and see if you can bring
her to a more reasonable frame of mind?"

The talk drifted to church and parish matters, and, as soon as he
decently could, the curate took his leave, looking very much more
depressed and anxious than ever. As he raised the latch of the Vicarage
gate, a voice, whose sound he knew only too well, called to him by name;
and, turning, he beheld Miss Caroline Cope, the Vicar's daughter,
pursuing him skittishly down the garden path. Miss Caroline was not
young, neither was she amiable, and her appearance was quite remarkably
unattractive. All this would have mattered little to the curate, but
for the fact that she had lately shown for him a marked partiality that
had inspired him with considerable uneasiness. At this moment, when his
mind was troubled with other matters, her unwelcome appearance aroused
in his breast a feeling of extreme irritation.

[Illustration: "DON'T RUN AWAY FROM ME."]

"Don't run away from me, you naughty, unfeeling man," she began, with an
elephantine attempt at archness. "I was going to ask you to take me down
to the schoolrooms, but I shall have to go alone if you fly away from me
like this."

Mr. Todd, fervently wishing that flying were just then among his
accomplishments, felt that now, while he was in the humour, was the
time to free himself, finally if possible, from these embarrassing
attentions.

"I am sorry I cannot give myself the pleasure of accompanying you, Miss
Cope. I have several sick persons and others to call upon in different
parts of the parish, and my duties will fully occupy the whole of my
morning. I'm afraid I don't happen to be going in the direction of the
schools, so I must say 'good morning' here."

And the curate raised his hat and passed on, fortifying himself with the
reflection that what might in an ordinary case have been rudeness was in
this instance the merest and most necessary self-defence.

[Illustration: "A VIPEROUS LOOK IN HER FACE."]

Miss Cope stood looking after his retreating figure with a viperous look
in her face, and with a feeling of intense rage, which she promised
herself to translate into action at the very earliest opportunity.

Early in the following week, the Vicar started for London, and his
curate was left in sole charge of the parish. That there was something
ami