ose it's sitting up so late that makes one feel so
cold and wretched, and as if one saw ghosts," said Mr Wentworth.
"Don't stay here any longer, and take care of the candles. I ought to
have been in bed two hours ago. Good-night."

And as he walked away, the Curate could not but observe what an aged
figure it looked, moving with a certain caution to the door. The great
library was so dim that the light of the candle which the Squire
carried in his hand was necessary to reveal his figure clearly, and
there was no mistaking his air of age and feebleness. The Curate's
thoughts were not very agreeable when he was left by himself in the
half-lighted room. His imagination jumped to a picture very possible,
but grievous to think of--Jack seated in his father's place, and "the
girls" and the little children turned out upon the world. In such a
case, who would be their protector and natural guardian? Not Gerald,
who was about to divest himself of ties still closer and more sacred.
The Curate lit his candle too, and went hastily to his room when that
thought came upon him. There might be circumstances still more
hopeless and appalling than the opposition of a rector or the want of
a benefice. He preferred to return to his anxiety about Gerald, and to
put away that thought, as he went hurriedly up-stairs.

CHAPTER XIX.

"The sum of it all is, that you won't hear any reason, Gerald," said
the Squire. "What your brother says, and what I say, are nothing; your
poor wife is nothing; and all a man's duties, sir, in life--all your
responsibilities, everything that is considered most sacred--"

"You may say what you will to me, father," said Gerald. "I can't
expect you should speak differently. But you may imagine I have looked
at it in every possible light before I came to this resolution. A man
does not decide easily when everything he prizes on earth is at
stake. I cannot see with Frank's eyes, or with yours; according to the
light God has given me, I must see with my own."

"But, God bless my soul! what do you mean by seeing with your own eyes?"
said the Squire. "Don't you know that is a Protestant doctrine, sir? Do
you think they'll let you see with any eyes but theirs when you get
among a set of Papists? Instead of an easy-going bishop, and friendly
fellows for brother clergymen, and parishioners that think everything
that's good of you, how do you suppose you'll feel as an Englishman when
you get into a dead Frenchifi