are very kind. I should like it very much, but
indeed I cannot."

Mary felt that it would be no kindness to press it further, and
so rose herself, and held out her hand. Grey took it, and it is
not quite certain to this day whether he did not press it in that
farewell shake more than was absolutely necessary. If he did, we
may be quite sure that he administered exemplary punishment to
himself afterwards for so doing. He would gladly have left now,
but his over-sensitive conscience forbade it. He had forgotten
his office, he thought, hitherto, but there was time yet not to
be altogether false to it. So he looked grave and shy again, and
said,

"You will not be offended with me, Miss Porter, if I speak to you
as a clergyman?"

Mary was a little disconcerted, but answered almost
immediately,--

"Oh, no. Pray say anything which you think you ought to say."

"I am afraid there must be a great temptation in living always in
beautiful rooms like this, with no one but prosperous people. Do
you not think so?"

"But one cannot help it. Surely, Mr. Grey, you do not think it
can be wrong?"

"No, not wrong. But it must be very trying. It must be very
necessary to do something to lessen the temptation of such a
life."

"I do not understand you. What could one do?"

"Might you not take up some work which would not be pleasant,
such as visiting the poor?"

"I should be very glad; but we do not know any poor people in
London."

"There are very miserable districts near here."

"Yes, and papa and mamma are very kind, I know, in helping
whenever they can hear of a proper case. But it is so different
from the country. There it is so easy and pleasant to go into the
cottages where everyone knows you, and most of the people work
for papa, and one is sure of being welcomed, and that nobody will
be rude. But here I should be afraid. It would seem so
impertinent to go to people's houses of whom one knows nothing. I
should never know what to say."

"It is not easy or pleasant duty which is the best for us. Great
cities could never be evangelized, Miss Porter, if all ladies
thought as you do."

"I think, Mr. Grey," said Mary, rather nettled, "that everyone
has not the gift of lecturing the poor, and setting them right;
and, if they have not, they had better not try to do it. And as
for the rest, there is plenty of the same kind of work to be
done, I believe, amongst the people of one's own class."

"You are joking, Miss Po