art Harold's little daughter, less regarding
it as his, than as poor Sara's. The more so, because, though a good and
careful, he was not a very loving father. But he seemed gratified by
the kindness that Miss Rothesay showed to little Ailie; and frequently
suffered the child to stay with her, and be taught by her all things,
save those in which it was his pleasure that his daughter should remain
ignorant--the doctrines of the Church of England.

Sometimes in her visiting of the poor, Olive saw the frightful
profanities of that cant knowledge which young or ignorant minds
acquire, and by which the greatest mysteries of Christianity are lowered
to a burlesque. Then she inclined to think that Harold Gwynne was right,
and that in this temporary prohibition he acted as became a wise father
and "a discreet and learned minister of God's Word." As such she
ever considered him; though she sometimes thought he received and
communicated that Word less through his heart than through his
intellect. His moral character and doctrines were irreproachable, but
it seemed to her as if the dew of Christian love had never fallen on his
soul.

This feeling gave her, in spite of herself, a sort of awe for him, which
she would not willingly have felt towards her pastor, and one whom she
so much regarded and respected. Especially as on any other subject she
ever held with him full and free communion, and he seemed gradually
to unbend his somewhat hard nature, as a man will do who inclines in
friendship towards a truly good woman.

Perhaps here it would be as well to observe, that, close and intimate
friends as they were, the tie was such that none of their two
households, no, not even the most tattling gossips of Farnwood and
Harbury, ever dreamed of saying that Harold Gwynne was "in love" with
Miss Rothesay. The good folks did chatter now and then, as country
gossips will, about him and Christal Manners; and perhaps they would
have chattered more, if the young lady had not been almost constantly at
the Hall, whither Mr. Gwynne rarely went. But they left the bond between
him and Olive Rothesay untouched, untroubled by their idle jests.
Perhaps those who remembered the beautiful Mrs. Harold Gwynne, imagined
the widower would never choose a second wife so _different_ from his
first; or perhaps there was cast about the daughter, so devotedly
tending her blind mother, a sanctity which their unholy and foolish
tongues dared not to violate.

Thu