roceeding to
extremities. The lawyer would not pledge himself to anything,
notwithstanding all Mr Wentworth's arguments. "Wodehouse himself was of
the opinion that the law should take its course," he said; but out of
respect for his partner he might wait a few days to see what turn his
illness would take. "I confess that I am not adapted for my profession,
Mr Wentworth. My feelings overcome me a great deal too often," said the
sharp man of business, looking full into the Curate's eyes, "and while
the father is dying I have not the heart to proceed against the son; but
I pledge myself to nothing--recollect, to nothing." And with this and a
very indignant mind Mr Wentworth had been forced to come away. His
thoughts were occupied with the contrarieties of the world as he
hastened along to St Roque's--how one man had to bear another's burdens
in every station and capacity of life, and how another man triumphed and
came to success by means of the misfortunes of his friends. It was hard
to tell what made the difference, or how humankind got divided into
these two great classes, for possibly enough the sharp attorney was as
just in his way as the Curate; but Mr Wentworth got no more satisfaction
in thinking of it than the speculatists generally have when they
investigate this strange, wayward, fantastical humanity which is never
to be calculated upon. He came into the little vestry of St Roque's,
which was a stony little room with a groined roof and windows too
severely English in their character to admit any great amount of light,
with a sensation of fatigue and discouragement very natural to a man who
had been interfering in other people's affairs. There was some comfort
in the litany which he was just going to say, but not much comfort in
any of the human individuals who would come into Mr Wentworth's mind as
he paused in the midst of the suffrage for "sick persons" and for those
who "had erred and were deceived," that the worshippers might whisper
into God's ear the names for which their hearts were most concerned. The
young priest sighed heavily as he put on his surplice, pondering all the
obstinate selfishness and strange contradictions of men; and it was only
when he heard a rather loud echo to his breath of weariness that he
looked up and saw Elsworthy, who was contemplating him with a very
curious expression of face. The clerk started a little on being
discovered, and began to look over all the choristers' books and set