eded to his mother's fortune (which was partly true, like most
popular versions of family history, his mother's fortune being now
Gerald's sole dependence), intended to establish a great brotherhood,
upon the Claydon model, in Carlingford, of which the Perpetual Curate
was to be the head. This idea pleased the imagination of the town, which
already saw itself talked of in all the papers, and anticipated with
excitement the sight of English brothers of St Benedict walking about in
the streets, and people from the 'Illustrated News' making drawings of
Grange Lane. To be sure, Gerald Wentworth had gone over to the Church of
Rome, which was a step too far to be compatible with the English
brotherhood; but popular imagination, when puzzled and in a hurry, does
not take time to master all details. Then, again, opinion wavered, and
it was supposed to be the Miss Wentworths who were the agents of the
coming prosperity. They had made up their mind to endow St Roque's and
apply to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners to have it erected into a
parochial district, rumour reported; and the senior assistant in
Masters's, who was suspected of Low-Church tendencies, was known to be a
supporter of this theory. Other ideas of a vague character floated
through the town, of which no one could give any explanation; but
Carlingford was unanimous in the conviction that good fortune was coming
somehow to the popular favourite, who a week ago had occupied
temporarily the position of the popular _bete noire_ and impersonation
of evil. "But the real sort always triumphs at the last," was the
verdict of Wharfside, which like every primitive community, believed
in poetic justice; and among the bargemen and their wives much
greater elevation than that of a district church or the headship of a
brotherhood was expected "for the clergyman." If the Queen had sent
for him immediately, and conferred upon him a bishopric, or at least
appointed him her private chaplain, such a favour would have excited no
surprise in Wharfside, where indeed the public mind was inclined to the
opinion that the real use of queens and other such dignitaries was to
find out and reward merit. Mr Wentworth himself laughed when the gossip
reached his ears. "My people have given away all they had to give," he
said to somebody who had asked the question; "and I know no prospect I
have of being anything but a perpetual curate, unless the Queen sends
for me and appoints me to a bishopric, a