kes back her look of innocence, and
deludes herself with thoughts of Eden. To be sure, there were tumults
enough going on over her surface--vulgar merry-makings and noises,
French drums beating, all kinds of discordant sounds going on here and
there, by land and sea, under that tranquil impartial sun. But the air
was very still in Carlingford, where you could hear the bees in the
lime-blossoms as you went to church in the sunshine. All that world of
soft air in which the embowered houses of Grange Lane lay beatified,
was breathing sweet of the limes; but notwithstanding the radiance of
the day, people were talking of other subjects as they came down under
the shadow of the garden-walls to St Roque's. There was a great stream
of people--greater than usual; for Carlingford was naturally anxious
to see how Mr Wentworth would conduct himself in such an emergency. On
one side of the way Mr Wodehouse's hospitable house, shut up closely,
and turning all its shuttered windows to the light, which shone
serenely indifferent upon the blank frames, stood silent, dumbly
contributing its great moral to the human holiday; and on the other,
Elsworthy's closed shop, with the blinds drawn over the cheerful
windows above, where little Rosa once amused herself watching the
passengers, interposed a still more dreadful discordance. The
Carlingford people talked of both occurrences with composure as they
went to St Roque's. They were sorry, and shocked, and very curious;
but that wonderful moral atmosphere of human indifference and
self-regard which surrounds every individual soul, kept their feelings
quite within bounds. Most people wondered much what Mr Wentworth
would say; whether he would really venture to face the Carlingford
world; whether he would take refuge in a funeral sermon for Mr
Wodehouse; or how it was possible for him to conduct himself under
such circumstances. When the greater part of the congregation was
seated, Miss Leonora Wentworth, all by herself, in her iron-grey silk,
which rustled like a breeze along the narrow passage, although she
wore no crinoline, went up to a seat immediately in front, close to Mr
Wentworth's choristers, who just then came trooping in in their white
surplices, looking like angels of unequal height and equivocal
reputation. Miss Leonora placed herself in the front row of a little
group of benches arranged at the side, just where the Curate's wife
would have been placed, had he possessed such an ap