ing to himself a line
from Van Artevelde,

How little flattering is woman's love.

And then he strove to recall his mind and to think of other
affairs--his parish, his college, his creed--but his thoughts would
revert to Mr. Slope and the Flemish chieftain.

When we think upon it,
How little flattering is woman's love,
Given commonly to whosoe'er is nearest
And propped with most advantage.

It was not that Mrs. Bold should marry anyone but him--he had not put
himself forward as a suitor--but that she should marry Mr. Slope; and
so he repeated over again--

Outward grace
Nor inward light is needful--day by day
Men wanting both are mated with the best
And loftiest of God's feminine creation,
Whose love takes no distinction but of gender,
And ridicules the very name of choice.

And so he went on, troubled much in his mind.

He had but an uneasy ride of it that morning, and little good did he
do at St. Ewold's.

The necessary alterations in his house were being fast completed, and
he walked through the rooms, and went up and down the stairs, and
rambled through the garden, but he could not wake himself to much
interest about them. He stood still at every window to look out and
think upon Mr. Slope. At almost every window he had before stood and
chatted with Eleanor. She and Mrs. Grantly had been there continually;
and while Mrs. Grantly had been giving orders, and seeing that orders
had been complied with, he and Eleanor had conversed on all things
appertaining to a clergyman's profession. He thought how often
he had laid down the law to her and how sweetly she had borne with
his somewhat dictatorial decrees. He remembered her listening
intelligence, her gentle but quick replies, her interest in all that
concerned the church, in all that concerned him; and then he struck
his riding-whip against the window-sill and declared to himself that
it was impossible that Eleanor Bold should marry Mr. Slope.

And yet he did not really believe, as he should have done, that it
was impossible. He should have known her well enough to feel that it
was truly impossible. He should have been aware that Eleanor had
that within her which would surely protect her from such degradation.
But he, like so many others, was deficient in confidence in woman.
He said to himself over and over again that it was impossible that
Eleanor Bold should become Mrs. Slope, and yet he believed that