an expensive little fool; and if he
leaves the Rectory, they can't have enough to live on. If you knew
what your brother was going to do, why didn't you advise him
otherwise? Besides, he will be wretched," said the discriminating
woman. "I never approved of his ways, but I could not say anything
against his sincerity. I believe his heart was in his work; a man may
be very zealous, and yet very erroneous," said Miss Leonora, like an
oracle, out of the shadows.

"I don't know if he is erroneous or not--but I know I should like to
punch this man's head," said the Curate, who had taken the paper to
the window, where there was just light enough to make out the
paragraph. He stood looming over Miss Dora, a great black shadow
against the fading light. "All the mischief in the world comes of
these villanous papers," said Mr Wentworth. "Though I did not think
anybody nowadays believed in the 'Chronicle.' Gerald has not gone over
to Rome, and I don't think he means to go. I daresay you have agitated
yourselves unnecessarily about more than one supposed event in the
family," he continued, throwing the paper on the table. "I don't know
anything very alarming that has happened as yet, except, perhaps, the
prodigal's return," said the Perpetual Curate, with a slight touch of
bitterness. His eye had just lighted on Jack sauntering through the
garden with his cigar; and Mr Wentworth was human, and could not
entirely refrain from the expression of his sentiments.

"But oh, Frank, my dear, you are not angry about poor Jack?" said Miss
Dora. "He has not known what it was to be at home for years and years.
A stepmother is so different from an own mother, and he never has had
any opportunities; and oh, Frank, don't you remember that there is
joy in heaven?" cried the anxious aunt--"not to say that he is the
eldest son. And it is such a thing for the family to see him changing
his ways in such a beautiful spirit!" said Miss Dora. The room was
almost dark by this time, and she did not see that her penitent had
entered while she spoke.

"It is very consoling to gain your approval, aunt Dora," said Jack. "My
brother Frank doesn't know me. If the Squire _will_ make a nursery of
his house, what can a man do? But a fellow can't be quite ruined as long
as he has--" aunts, the reprobate was about to say, with an inflection
of laughter intended for Frank's ear only in his voice; but he
fortunately remembered in time that Miss Leonora had an acute