ent of the
man that he could so read the inward feelings of women with whom he
conversed. He knew that Eleanor was doubting him, and that, if she
thanked him, she would only do so because she could not help it,
but yet this did not make him angry or even annoy him. Rome was not
built in a day.

"I did not come for thanks," continued he, seeing her hesitation,
"and do not want them--at any rate before they are merited. But this
I do want, Mrs. Bold, that I may make to myself friends in this fold
to which it has pleased God to call me as one of the humblest of his
shepherds. If I cannot do so, my task here must indeed be a sad one.
I will at any rate endeavour to deserve them."

"I'm sure," said she, "you will soon make plenty of friends." She
felt herself obliged to say something.

"That will be nothing unless they are such as will sympathize with
my feelings; unless they are such as I can reverence and admire--and
love. If the best and purest turn away from me, I cannot bring
myself to be satisfied with the friendship of the less estimable. In
such case I must live alone."

"Oh, I'm sure you will not do that, Mr. Slope." Eleanor meant
nothing, but it suited him to appear to think some special allusion
had been intended.

"Indeed, Mrs. Bold, I shall live alone, quite alone as far as the
heart is concerned, if those with whom I yearn to ally myself turn
away from me. But enough of this; I have called you my friend, and
I hope you will not contradict me. I trust the time may come when I
may also call your father so. May God bless you, Mrs. Bold, you and
your darling boy. And tell your father from me that what can be done
for his interest shall be done."

And so he took his leave, pressing the widow's hand rather more
closely than usual. Circumstances, however, seemed just then to make
this intelligible, and the lady did not feel called on to resent it.

"I cannot understand him," said Eleanor to Mary Bold a few minutes
afterwards. "I do not know whether he is a good man or a bad
man--whether he is true or false."

"Then give him the benefit of the doubt," said Mary, "and believe the
best."

"On the whole, I think I do," said Eleanor. "I think I do believe
that he means well--and if so, it is a shame that we should revile
him and make him miserable while he is among us. But, oh, Mary, I
fear Papa will be disappointed in the hospital."

CHAPTER XVII

Who Shall Be Cock of the Walk?

All this time thi