Morgan was opposite Mr Wodehouse's,
she looked across with some interest, thinking of Lucy; and it shocked
her greatly to see the closed shutters, which told of the presence of
death. Then, a little farther up, she could see Elsworthy in front of
his shop, which was already closed, talking vehemently to a little
group round the door. The Rector's wife crossed the street, to avoid
coming into contact with this excited party; and, as she went swiftly
along under the garden-walls, came direct, without perceiving it, upon
Mr Wentworth, who was going the opposite way. They were both absorbed
in their own thoughts, the Perpetual Curate only perceiving Mrs Morgan
in time to take off his hat to her as he passed; and, to tell the
truth, having no desire for any further intercourse. Mrs Morgan,
however, was of a different mind. She stopped instantly, as soon as
she perceived him. "Mr Wentworth, it is getting late--will you walk
with me as far as the Rectory?" she said, to the Curate's great
astonishment. He could not help looking at her with curiosity as he
turned to accompany her. Mrs Morgan was still wearing her wedding
things, which were not now in their first freshness--not to say that
the redness, of which she was so painfully sensible, was rather out of
accordance with the orange blossoms. Then she was rather flurried and
disturbed in her mind; and, on the whole, Mr Wentworth ungratefully
concluded the Rector's wife to be looking her plainest, as he turned
with very languid interest to see her safely home.

"A great many things seem to be happening just now," said Mrs Morgan,
with a good deal of embarrassment; "I suppose the people in
Carlingford are grateful to anybody who gives them something to talk
about."

"I don't know about the gratitude," said the Perpetual Curate; "it is
a sentiment I don't believe in."

"You ought to believe in everything as long as you are young," said
Mrs Morgan. "I want very much to speak to you, Mr Wentworth; but then
I don't know how you will receive what I am going to say."

"I can't tell until I know what it is," said the Curate, shutting
himself up. He had an expressive face generally, and Mrs Morgan saw
the shutters put up, and the jealous blinds drawn over the young man's
countenance as clearly as if they had been tangible articles. He did
not look at her, but kept swinging his cane in his hand, and regarding
the pavement with downcast eyes; and if the Rector's wife had formed
any e