burden she had long borne in patient
silence had been loosened a little, if only by the fact of speech about
it. She was not convinced exactly. She was too strong a nature to
relinquish a principle without a period of meditative struggle in which
conscience should have all its dues. But her tone made his heart leap.
He felt in it a momentary self-surrender that, coming from a creature of
so rare a dignity, filled him with an exquisite sense of power, and yet
at the same time with a strange humility beyond words.

A day or two later he was the spectator of a curious little scene. An
aunt of the Leyburns living in Whinborough came to see them. She was
their father's youngest sister, and the wife of a man who had made some
money as a builder in Whinborough. When Robert came in he found her
sitting on the sofa having tea, a large homely-looking woman with gray
hair, a high brow, and prominent white teeth. She had unfastened her
bonnet strings, and a clean white handkerchief lay spread out on her
lap. When Elsmere was introduced to her, she got up, and said with some
effusiveness, and a distinct Westmoreland accent--

'Very pleased indeed to make your acquaintance, sir,' while she enclosed
his fingers in a capacious hand.

Mrs. Leyburn, looking fidgety and uncomfortable, was sitting near her,
and Catherine, the only member of the party who showed no sign of
embarrassment when Robert entered, was superintending her aunt's tea and
talking busily the while.

Robert sat down at a little distance beside Agnes and Rose, who were
chattering together a little artificially and of set purpose as it
seemed to him. But the aunt was not to be ignored. She talked too loud
not to be overheard, and Agnes inwardly noted that as soon as Robert
Elsmere appeared she talked louder than before. He gathered presently
that she was an ardent Wesleyan, and that she was engaged in describing
to Catherine and Mrs. Leyburn the evangelistic exploits of her eldest
son, who had recently obtained his first circuit as a Wesleyan minister.
He was shrewd enough, too, to guess, after a minute or two, that his
presence and probably his obnoxious clerical dress gave additional zest
to the recital.

'Oh, his success at Colesbridge has been somethin' marvellous,' he heard
her say, with uplifted hands and eyes, 'some-thin' marvellous. The Lord
has blessed him indeed! It doesn't matter what it is, whether it's
meetin's, or sermons, or parlour work, or just fait