th was a seducer and a villain, and ought to
be brought to condign punishment; but that in the mean time it was very
interesting to watch the progress of this startling little drama; and
that he himself, instead of merely being the Curate of St Roque's, had
become a most captivating enigma, and had made church-going itself half
as good as a play.

As for Miss Leonora, she waited for her nephew, and, when he was ready,
took his arm and walked with him up Grange Lane to her own door, where
they encountered Miss Wentworth and Miss Dora returning from church, and
overwhelmed them with astonishment. But it was not about his own affairs
that they talked. Miss Leonora did not say a word to her nephew about
himself. She was talking of Gerald most of the time, and inquiring into
all the particulars of the Squire's late "attack." And she would very
fain have found out what Jack's motive was in coming to Carlingford; but
as for Rosa Elsworthy and her concerns, the strong-minded woman ignored
them completely. Mr Wentworth even went with her to lunch, on her urgent
invitation; and it was from his aunts' house that he took his way to
Wharfside, pausing at the green door to ask after the Miss Wodehouses,
who were, John said, with solemnity, as well as could be expected. They
were alone, and they did not feel equal to seeing anybody--even Mr
Wentworth; and the Perpetual Curate, who would have given all he had in
the world for permission to soothe Lucy in her sorrow, went away sadly
from the hospitable door, which was now for the first time closed to
him. He could not go to Wharfside, to the "district" through which they
had so often gone together, about which they had talked, when all the
little details discussed were sweet with the love which they did not
name, without going deeper and deeper into that sweet shadow of Lucy
which was upon his way wherever he went. He could not help missing her
voice when the little choir, which was so feeble without her, sang the
'Magnificat,' which, somehow, Mr Wentworth always associated with her
image. He read the same sermon to the Wharfside people which he had
preached in St Roque's, and saw, with a little surprise, that it drew
tears from the eyes of his more open-hearted hearers, who did not think
of the proprieties. He could see their hands stealing up to their faces,
and a great deal of persistent winking on the part of the stronger
members of the congregation. At the close of the service Tom B