nd he isn't the pleasantest
companion in the world, at least not to me." Eleanor gave a sort of
half-blush, but she was wrong if she imagined that her father in any
way alluded to her acquaintance with Mr. Slope.

"Well, Papa."

"He wants to turn the hospital into a Sunday-school and a
preaching-house, and I suppose he will have his way. I do not feel
myself adapted for such an establishment, and therefore, I suppose,
I must refuse the appointment."

"What would be the harm of the school, Papa?"

"The want of a proper schoolmaster, my dear."

"But that would of course be supplied."

"Mr. Slope wishes to supply it by making me his schoolmaster. But as
I am hardly fit for such work, I intend to decline."

"Oh, Papa! Mr. Slope doesn't intend that. He was here yesterday, and
what he intends--"

"He was here yesterday, was he?" asked Mr. Harding.

"Yes, Papa."

"And talking about the hospital?"

"He was saying how glad he would be, and the bishop too, to see you
back there again. And then he spoke about the Sunday-school; and to
tell the truth I agreed with him; and I thought you would have done
so too. Mr. Slope spoke of a school, not inside the hospital, but
just connected with it, of which you would be the patron and visitor;
and I thought you would have liked such a school as that; and I
promised to look after it and to take a class--and it all seemed so
very--. But, oh, Papa! I shall be so miserable if I find I have
done wrong."

"Nothing wrong at all, my dear," said he gently, very gently
rejecting his daughter's caress. "There can be nothing wrong in your
wishing to make yourself useful; indeed, you ought to do so by all
means. Everyone must now exert himself who would not choose to go to
the wall." Poor Mr. Harding thus attempted in his misery to preach
the new doctrine to his child. "Himself or herself, it's all the
same," he continued; "you will be quite right, my dear, to do
something of this sort; but--"

"Well, Papa."

"I am not quite sure that if I were you I would select Mr. Slope for
my guide."

"But I never have done so and never shall."

"It would be very wicked of me to speak evil of him, for to tell
the truth I know no evil of him; but I am not quite sure that he is
honest. That he is not gentlemanlike in his manners, of that I am
quite sure."

"I never thought of taking him for my guide, Papa."

"As for myself, my dear," continued he, "we know the old
proverb--'It's bad teachin